Letters of Forgiveness
by Anlynne
Summary: It began with letters from a stranger. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor. A Malfoy and a Granger. A story of hatred, remorse, retribution, forgiveness, friendship and love.
1. Chapter 1

There is no copyright infringement intended.

Chapter One

Retribution

_Ms. Granger,_

_We all seek retribution. It almost feels like it's the reason we are here. Some of us live to make mistakes, to hurt, and suffer, cause pain, to turn around, and take the blunt punishment we feel we deserve. That is me. You, on the other hand, are quite different. You are the one who does good, and suffers the injustice later. Most would give up, but you kept going. There can be no words, not even in poetic symbolism to say how greatly I admire that._

_This is my attempt at retribution, something only you can give me a chance at. I'm deeply sorry for being the cause of so many problems, for careless, and thoughtless words. Sorry isn't enough to repair the damage I've done, but it's the best I can do for now. I'd blame my linage if I could, but I can't stand being a hypocrite. In addition I'm sorry that I can't sign my name. I won't insult your intelligence, somewhere inside of you, you know who I am, but forgive me, I'm not ready to reveal myself. Retribution is a long road, after all._

_You're not obligated to write me. In fact I don't expect a response, but this is my first step to reconciliation. Granted it's not with you, I could never hope for that. I'm being selfish asking for things I shouldn't, and the wish to forgive myself one day. Writing you is only hope that someone, the very person that shouldn't, may be able to forgive me, too._

_An Old Enemy_

Hermione Granger read the letter ten times, the curved emerald words gleaming. The stranger was right, she did know who it was. She thought she did at least. She touched the scar on her neck. It was white, not fading in the least since that night. Absentmindedly she shook her head. The idea was insane. It couldn't be him.

She sat at her beautifully engraved desk in her room. It was her favorite place in the world. In front of her a gentle breeze ruffled the lacy curtains of the arched window. Spring was passing quickly. The sun threatened to scorch them with summer, but the wind held promises for next year. She ran her hand thoughtfully over the designs of her desk, inhaling the awakening scent of her rose candle that burned lively by her bottle of ink.

She considered writing the stranger. Everyone should be given a second chance, even if the person was who she thought. She could look past it if he was indeed searching for retribution.

Out of her top drawer she laid a single piece of parchment. She gave herself a moment to change her mind. What harm could it do, writing someone who obviously needed help? She picked up her quill.

_My Old Enemy,_

_If you mean what you write then I'll be happy to oblige. Whatever you may have done to me in the past is forgiven. It shouldn't be so easy, but it is. My adventures have taught me that hate is a wasted feeling. It can be felt, and may take no work at all, but to dwell on it, and let it eat you is a foolish thing to do._

_I know you. Maybe not well, and maybe not at all, but on some level. I can guess a name, and mind you, I'd probably be right, but I won't try. We all deserve to have some anonymity through life. It's a way to let go of the expectations a name may bind you to._

_So with that in mind, feel free to write me. You can simply write about you, or your day, or nothing at all. If you'd like I'll be your confidante, but only if you choose._

_Granger_

Hermione folded the letter, and held it out to the small owl waiting patiently on her desk. He had arrived early that morning rousing her from bed with his insistent tapping at the window. She watched as he flew out gradually fading into the clear horizon.

She checked the watch she left on her nightstand. She had plenty of time before she had to be at work. Mr. Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic had personally told her if she showed up for work an hour early again he would force her to take a week off. Explaining to him the importance of putting the houselves rights in movement didn't sway him. He thought she worked too much. She hadn't taken one vacation in her three years of working as a lawyer.

Hermione didn't need a vacation, it was the last thing she wanted. The day that houselves took days off was the day she would too. Unfortunately her friends Ron Weasley, his sister Ginny, and their friend, and Ginny's husband Harry Potter didn't believe that day would come soon, and they were siding with Mr. Shacklebolt.

She shed her modest white nightgown, and dressed slowly in pressed blue slacks, and a matching vest over a white button blouse. She pulled her hair into a bun at the base of her neck. Ginny always teased her for it, calling her an old maid, but Hermione thought it did make her look older. People took her seriously as shallow as it sounded.

Out in the hallway filled with numerous pictures of family members, and friends on the walls, and down the staircase to the quaint lounge she turned left into the small kitchen. She placed a kettle over the cooker, and waited for the whistle. She glanced at her watch again. As much as it would thrill her boss if she was late, she wasn't going to ruin her perfect record. She turned the cooker off. She would have tea later.

She snatched her briefcase with her name embossed in gold on it, and headed for the fireplace in the lounge. Throwing a handful of powder into the hearth she walked into the bright emerald flames.

Hermione walked into the large Atrium. Shiny black tile floors, and walls with fireplaces built into them shooting up green blazes, wizards, and witches walking out for a days work. The ceiling resembled the one in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, only instead of showing the sky outside golden symbols rotated, and swirled in the blackness. A giant fountain that used to hold sculptors of a wizard, with elves, centaurs, and the like in a inferior way was now only a simple fountain with glittering gold specks.

It never got old for her. She walked through the bustle under a golden archway to the elevators joining a small crowd inside one, the grate shutting behind her. It slowly made its way to the fifth floor, making plenty of clanging noise, but thanks to the chatter it was barely heard. When she reached her floor she saw Mr. Shacklebolt, nodding as she came up to him. He made a show of looking at his watch.

"Are you checking up on me," she asked the huge man.

"Right on time. I suppose that'll do. Get to work Ms. Granger, I'm sure you're anxious."

Hermione went to the right stopping at a door displaying her name on a polished plaque. Inside there were wall to wall bookcases, and a desk piled with official papers. Many co-workers told her that her office belonged in the dungeons of Hogwarts. She happened to like the dark features, and the quiet. It was much easier to concentrate here than it was in the Gryffindor common room, but then there had been George, and Fred firing dungbombs off every night.

Three years later Fred was still dearly missed. He always would be. Hermione never thought she'd miss his antics, and jokes. All those house points she took away in Hogwarts seemed useless. They brought laughs in the darkest times they had known, and in the wake of the joke shop that George ran, with some help from Ron, and Harry they were still bringing laughs.

Hermione sat at her desk, and began rifling through the paperwork that had to be done. She was just getting started when a chipper red-head poked her head in. "Hermione!"

She jumped up hugging her friend. "Ginny, you just get back?"

Her friend nodded ecstatic. "Oh, Glasgow was beautiful, and so much fun."

"Beautiful? How would you know, did you two ever leave the room?"

Ginny playfully slapped her arm. "Of course we did. Not saying that Harry doesn't have the stamina -"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Would you like hearing about any of your brothers?"

She made a face, "please, no."

Hermione smiled, and moved back to sit. "You can tell me all about your honeymoon today at lunch. Right now, I have a lot of paperwork."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Mr. Shacklebolt will gladly give them to someone else so you can see Glasgow _yourself_."

"We've been over this, I'm not taking a vacation."

"You don't have to suffer because others are."

Hermione was reminded of the letter. '_You are the one who does good, and suffers the injustice later._' She didn't see it that way. She loved doing what she did. She loved defending the ones that did suffer the injustice. "I'm not suffering, Ginny. I happen to love what I do."

"I know... Sometimes you remind me of Harry. If something's not right he has to take it all on his shoulders. You should've learned from him, Hermione, you don't have to do it that way. There are those that are more than willing to help. I'm not saying that you're not the best lawyer there is, because you are, you just don't have to take it all on."

"Lunch, half past twelve?"

"I'll see you then, but don't think that this conversation is over!"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Once the door clicked closed Hermione buried her head in her hands. She wasn't suffering, she was perfectly happy with her life. What did they all know anyways?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Wonderfully, Truly, Happy

Wearily Hermione stepped out of the fireplace to her lounge. She fell backwards onto the beige couch, her fluffy ginger cat Crookshanks curling up in her lap. Idly she stroked his fur.

She fought a case of a herd of centaur's fight for more land, and won. She met with an abused houself taking on her case. Yet none of that was more tiring than the lunch with Ginny, who begged to introduce her to a man she met at one of her Quidditch matches. Ginny was the best Chaser in the Holyhead Harpies, an all girl Quidditch team, a sport that was like soccer, but with more brutality, and it was played in the air.

Hermione dated plenty, but they were all brutes. It was amazing how charming a man could be when they were hoping to get in the pants of one of the golden trio as the wizarding community liked to call her, Harry, and Ron.

Gently she pushed Crookshanks off her lap, and went up to her room to turn in for the night. However there was that small owl on her desk again as though he never left. He hooted happily looking to an envelope he had set down.

She ripped it open, surprised that her mystery writer had already responded. How long had that owl been there? She opened a drawer filled with snacks that she reserved for Hedwig, and Pig. She fed him a handful.

_Ms. Granger,_

_Should I write so soon? Within moments of reading your letter here I am writing you back. If you're to be my confidante than there's no reason to hide the fact that I was excited when Lunus (my owl) flew into my room, your envelope in his beak._

_It's imprudent of me to ask this when I know you, and you only have vague ideas of who I am, but I feel that I must: Are you happy? Not in the sense of your job, or family, or everyday life, but wonderfully, truly, happy?_

_I have everything I could ask for, but it feels like something is missing from my life. I fear that I messed up in my past, and because of it I will be forced an unhappy future. Maybe I passed up a crucial opportunity._

_I await your response._

_Your Confidante In Return_

Wonderfully, truly, happy? She loved her job, loved her family, and friends, loved her everyday life. What more could make a person happy? Perhaps the small things. The moments in life that he was possibly missing. How could she know what he was missing though? She didn't know him. It almost seemed wrong to be writing him. Almost.

_Confidante,_

_I am happy. I could be more so, but it's not up to me to determine how much I need. There are others that need tending. I'm of no concern._

_I can tell you for certain that our past does determine our future. The choices we make, make us. I can also say that I doubt that because of it you'll live unhappy. It's your choices now that count. Don't let fear rule you, or you risk more opportunities. Be happy, and everything else will fall into place._

_Granger_

"Up for another trip," she asked Lunus. He hooted delightfully taking the envelope eagerly setting flight into the night.

In an impulse she left her room to the fireplace downstairs, throwing in a pinch of floo powder. She got down on her hands, and knees, and stuck her head into the flames, choking a little on the ash. She called out, "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place," and her surroundings sickening circled becoming a brightly lit lounge.

Every time she thought she might have been in the Gryffindor common room at first sight of the red couch, and rug. Everything else was toned down with dark woods such as the frames on the walls, the bookcase, and the coffee table.

"Ginny," she called out.

A flash of red tresses flew over the back of the couch. An "oomph," and a few curse words. Ginny shot to her feet, closing the last of the buttons on her wrinkled blouse. "Hermione," she exclaimed, and more curse words came from behind the couch.

Hermione's face burned scarlet. "I can come by another time," she said hastily.

"Don't - it's fine."

Harry's flushed face appeared over the couch. He scowled at her. "Yes, come by anytime."

"You two have a bedroom," Hermione pointed out.

"Too predictable."

Ginny smirked, "get lost, Harry."

"What if she wants to talk with me?"

Hermione laughed, "sorry, Harry, but I do want to talk with Ginny."

"Figures..." He mumbled something about women, and left the room, fiddling with his belt.

Ginny plopped in front of the fire crossing her legs. "Anything the matter?"

"Sorry, I just have a question. Didn't mean to interrupt you."

She waved her hand dismissively, "what's your question?"

"Are you happy?"

Ginny looked incredulous. "What do you think I was doing just now? Scrubbing the floor?"

Hermione's blush deepened. "Put aside your friends, and family, your career, your everyday life. Are you happy?"

"What else is there to be happy about?"

She laughed at hearing her own thoughts aloud. "I mean... The little things. Are you wonderfully, truly, happy?"

"If I was any happier I'd burst into stars." Ginny gaped at her worriedly. "Are you?"

"Of course, I was just... Thinking. It's nothing, really. I'll let you get back to... You know." Hermione pulled her head back through to her own lounge.

She fell back against her floor. So it was possible to be _that_ happy. The feeling that something was missing... She did feel it. It wasn't the lack of having a boyfriend, or a husband, she wasn't that shallow. It was the little things... She didn't have those, unless small talk between boring lawyers counted.

Crookshanks crawled to her side mewing contently as she scratched his ear. "I'm happy enough, Crookshanks. I don't need those little things..."

Groggily she pushed herself to her feet. At the top of the stairs she started laughing. It might have been due to her hazy state, but she laughed. There on the walls were her little things. The pictures.

Her at Harry, and Ginny's wedding at the Burrow, toasting as the maid-of-honor. Holding a baby Teddy who steadily changed his hair color from green to blue. Losing another game of wizard chess to Ron. Her, and her parents outside of the opening of their new dentist practice. Luna introducing Hermione to a recently discovered bug. Nevielle untangling her bushy hair from one of his plants.

When she started searching her work for the "little things," it was time to take a step back. Not in the form of a vacation, but to step back metaphorically, and take a look at the bigger picture. She's always had those little things. She was wonderfully, truly, happy. In the midst of sad cases that she buried herself in, she forgot temporarily.

She held the stitch in her side as she laughed. She was too tired. Hermione fell into her bed silently thanking her mystery pen pal for unknowingly giving her that insight.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Keep The Name

There was a nipping at Hermione's nose. She tried to swat it away. It was Saturday, and she didn't work that day, but made it a point to set her alarm. She could still work from home. However, her alarm didn't include bites at her face.

Slowly she opened her eyes seeing a brown ball of feathers. It hooted. She leaned back, and grinned. "You again, eh," she said to Lunus.

Hermione slipped from under her covers, and stretched her fingers to the ceiling. She reached into a drawer of her desk, and extracted a few treats. A letter laid waiting at her desk.

_Ms. Granger,_

_For whatever it's worth, even if I'm nobody at all, you're a great concern to me. It sounds scary, coming from words on a page of a stranger, but remember, I have known you, and I know you should be able to decide how much happiness you're allowed. Other's misfortune shouldn't hinder you._

_If the choices we make, make us, then I don't want to think of the man I am. The choices I make now are far better, but does my past only cancel it out? If so, then I wonder who I am, and if anyone will ever see me differently._

_A Stranger To Myself_

_P.S. Thanks for feeding Lunus. He's so jubilant after each delivery from you._

Hermione dipped her quill into the bottle, a drop of ink suspended at the end, before falling into the depths.

_Stranger,_

_If you strive for improvement than it only makes you a great man. Whether I know you, or not, I'm proud of that fact. Some people go through their whole lives focusing on mistakes without trying for change. Be glad you're not one of them. If no one sees you as who you are now, then consider on what they're missing out on. The words on a page from a stranger are kind, and are true if you mean them to be._

_It may sound odd, but I don't really think of you as a stranger. I know I know you. It's more like I'm writing a friend I didn't know I had. I woke with a smile this morning, because I felt that I did indeed make a friend in you. Is that weird?_

_Granger_

_P.S. It's no problem. He's a happy fellow, isn't he? I'm starting to grow fond of him._

Tucking the folded letter inside an envelope she gave it to Lunus to fly off with. She dressed casual for the day, jeans, and a shirt. She became startled when she went into her kitchen for her morning tea.

"Aren't you married," she jest to her friend who sat at the table with a steaming cup, and bagel.

"Sure, but he's at work, and it's off season for Quidditch. I made tea," she pointed over to the kettle on the cooker.

Hermione poured herself a cup, grabbing a bagel from the platter set out on the counter. For three years they all randomly went to each other households uninvited. They were family, there was little point in asking, and when they did, it was purely out of a joke. She loved it.

"You're not working today, are you?"

"I'm not going into the office, but I have some paperwork."

"No, you're not doing that today."

"Excuse me, Mrs. Potter? Why not?"

"You're going shopping with me. I need a new cloak, and goodness knows you need new trainers."

Hermione glanced at her shoes, the soles coming apart at the seam. She sighed defeated. "Fine, but only for a couple of hours."

"I'll take it," Ginny said shoving the rest of her bagel in her mouth.

Hermione blamed Ginny's lack of girl etiquette on her six older brothers. She did eat better than Ron, and hadn't put her feet on the table, that was something. Hermione finished her bagel, and drank deeply from her cup. Ginny tapped her foot impatiently, and took her by the crook of her arm the moment she stood.

With a small pop, and the horrible feeling like they were traveling through a hosepipe they apparated outside a small shop in Diagon Alley owned by Susan Bones. Before they were jostled too much by the busy crowd, they ducked into it.

Susan waved cheerfully from her post behind the counter. She hadn't changed much since her days at Hogwarts, she still had that baby face, and long auburn mane. They waved back.

Ginny immediately began searching in the racks for a cloak, while Hermione ventured to the trainers. She tried on a pair of low slung brown sandals, but they hurt her heels. She then pulled on sneakers much like her own, gray, comfortable, and cleaner. She put them back into their box, and carried it under her arm going back to Ginny.

"That was quick," she said not looking up from the rack.

"It's only trainers, Ginny."

She shrugged, "you want to go back to your work."

Hermione shrugged back. It was the truth, there was no need to deny it.

Her friend took out a black cloak with intricate yellow flowers twining their way up the sleeves. She held it against her. "What do you think?"

"Different, adventurous. It's you."

Ginny swept it another look, before smiling, and nodding her approval. They went up to pay for their purchases making small talk with Susan before going back out in the hustling cobblestone street.

Hermione checked her watch outside, and Ginny swatted her arm. "It hasn't been two hours! Will you relax, you're not on a deadline, it's a beautiful day, enjoy it!"

The sky was bright blue, not a cloud in sight, and there was a draft of wind that kept them cool. It was a beautiful day, and if it weren't for Ginny she would be inside going over the details of her newest cases. It was probably something she should be doing anyway, but she swallowed the guilt. She would devote herself to it that night.

Ginny dragged her to another store full of Quidditch supplies that smelled of leather. "We'll only be here for a moment, I need new gloves," she promised.

Hermione waited anxiously by the door. In Hogwarts she only watched Quidditch, because Harry was Seeker, and then again when Ron became Keeper, and Ginny Chaser. Then there was the sheer joy she got when she saw Slytherin lose. If she watched a game now, it was only because Ginny had gone on to do it as a profession.

"Granger? Hermione Granger?"

Hermione looked up from her shoes, and saw a smiling sandy haired man with a strong Irish accent.

"Seamus Finnigan?" Hermione shook his outstretched hand. "How're you doing?"

"Good, good. I work at Gringotts now, converting muggle, and wizard currency. How about you?"

"I'm a lawyer at the Ministry."

"Wow..." He let his hand drop to his side.

She looked over his features. He had more of a build than the last time she saw him at the final battle. His face was scruffy with a weeks worth of whiskers. He looked... Nice. She let her eyes glance at his left hand. No ring.

"You look... Pretty."

She blushed at the compliment. "Thank you, you look nice yourself."

He nodded, and she swore that his eyes sought out her left hand.

She didn't know what to say... "It's good seeing you, Seamus."

"It's good seeing you, too, Hermione." He made his way to the door, but stopped abruptly, and looked back to her. "You know, if you aren't doing anything tomorrow, I'd love to treat you to lunch. From one Gryffindor to another."

She grinned, "it'd be a pleasure."

"I'll meet you at Dean's then?"

"At six?"

"It's a date," and before she could contemplate the meaning of "date," he left.

Ginny hopped out from behind a display of brooms. "Seamus Finnigan?!"

Hermione clutched her jumping heart, "goodness, Ginny, don't do that!"

In a way that reminded her sharply of her twin brothers, Ginny grinned. A cat with a mouse grin. "You have a date with Seamus," she stated excitedly.

"Suppose I do," Hermione agreed. "Oh, and don't tell Harry, or Ron. They'll both want to investigate him. It's wrong to take advantage of their position."

She ignored this. "You know what this means, right? We'll have to shop for you a dress."

"It's only Dean's." She remembered when they all went to Dean Thomas' (a fellow Gryffindor, DA fighter, and Seamus' best friend) restaurant opening. It wasn't a place you'd wear a ball gown, but defiantly not someplace you'd show up with stains. The only place of his that you could do that was at his pub dedicated to his muggle soccer team that he loved so much.

"Nothing fancy, something simple. You won't need much, he already couldn't take his eyes off of you!"

* * *

Hermione laid her new dress out on her four poster bed. She stood back, and took a good look at it. She couldn't believe she let Ginny talk her into buying it. It was lovely, but not at all what she would alone pick out. It was dark blue, sleeveless, knee length, and had ties criss-crossing at the low back. It was nearly too gorgeous for her.

The sound of flapping wings made her turn, and she saw Lunus settling himself on her desk dropping the letter in his beak. Hermione set her dress on a hanger, hanging it in her wardrobe before she anxiously opened the envelope.

_Ms. Granger,_

_Should I be worried that you've grown more fond of my owl than my letters? Are you simply writing to see Lunus? Take no serious tone in that, I have to confess that he's quite a charmer, much like his owner._

_I don't find your feelings weird. I must admit that only years ago we were the farthest we could be from friends. I may be a decade late, but I'm glad that I found it in you, and you found it in me. Does this require me to tell my name?_

_A Friend_

Hermione smiled wide. "He said friend," she exclaimed to Lunus, who hooted jovially. She was quick to write back.

_Friend,_

_I'm not sure if it's Lunus presence, or the fact that he brings me these letters from you. Do I have to decide right now?_

_I do have a favor to ask. Don't reveal your name. I want to know you as you are, not the person you were, and I'm fearful that you're name may bring back memories that I won't like very much. In fact, I know I won't. For now, keep your name, and I'll keep your words as they are._

_Your Friend, Hermione (if you call me a friend, call me by my given name)_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Weak With Memories

On Sunday Deans' was neither packed, nor empty. There were enough conversations around them to feel comfortable in the silence between them, but not so much that they couldn't hear each other without having to raise their voices. The lighting was low, and warm, small vases of roses in the center of each table, and soft piano music played from the walls. Four to five beautiful pieces of artwork on each of the walls showing muggle, and wizarding worlds colliding, all done by Dean himself. It was the perfect place to bring a date.

They sat in a private table in the corner of the restaurant. Seamus was rather handsome in slacks, and a silver button dress shirt. Hermione couldn't help but ask why he lacked a cloak, and to that he replied, "I'm half and half. It's a good balance living as a wizard, but dressing as a muggle." To that she smiled kindly, quite impressed with his odd sense of logic, and then blushed furiously when he commented how breathtaking she looked. They only began talking again when their meal arrived.

Seamus cut through his steak. "How're Harry, and Ron. I haven't seen them lately."

"They're both well. Ron is stationed in Japan for a couple of years, and Harry, and Ginny just got back from their honeymoon."

"Really? Good for them!"

Hermione swirled her glass of wine expertly, and saw that Seamus was watching her with awe. She took a sip, and sat it back down. It went down nicely, making her head only a bit fuzzy. She would never get used to drinking the stuff, but she couldn't very well order something less in a restaurant such as the one they were in.

"I heard George got married."

She nodded. "To Angelina Johnson, yes, a couple of years ago. They have a baby now, named after Fred." She was overjoyed when she heard George announce their engagement. She liked Angelina, she was a wonderful Gryffindor Chaser, and was now doing it alongside Ginny. The dark skinned girl hadn't changed much over the years, she was still a fierce Quidditch player.

"Ever feel like you're standing still," he asked suddenly.

Hermione considered this shortly. "No. I'm happy for them, but I'm happy with where I'm at now."

"I wouldn't think you'd have it any other way. A lawyer," he chuckled, and after seeing her expression held up his hand defensively, "no, it's great. I remember you in Hogwarts quite well, debating, and studying. I always thought you'd do something great with your life."

"Thank you," she said quietly, taking another sip of her wine.

The rest of the evening went much more smoothly. They ate, drinked, and laughed. Hermione's sides were sore at the end of it all. She didn't want it to end. No amount of lawyers together could have this much fun, and though she had this with Harry, Ginny, Ron, and even Luna, she couldn't exactly date any of them. This was a different kind of fun.

Night had fallen when Seamus walked Hermione to her door. The outside of her off-white house was modestly pretty. A walkway lined with white, and yellow carnations, and a porch with a swing.

Seamus stood awkwardly for a moment, before lightly kissing her cheek. "Was that okay," he asked with unease, his lips lingering.

She giggled, "perfectly okay."

He kissed her again, more affirmative, and stepped back shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Thanks again, Seamus. I had a lot of fun."

"Then we should do this again, like next week? I'll owl you?"

"Please do," and she slipped inside her door as he walked to the street.

Hermione leaned her back against the frame, touching the spot where he kissed her. Who knew that Seamus could be such a great date.

"Where have you been?!"

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest as Ginny came unexpectedly from the kitchen taking a bite of an orange. "For Merlin's sakes, Ginny, _stop_ doing that!"

Ginny smirked wickedly, and pulled her Hermione to the couch sitting them down roughly. "Tell me! How did it go?"

"Answer me something, do you have a husband?"

She huffed indignantly, "I've been waiting for _hours_ to know how your date went. Harry can wait."

"I'm sure he'll be happy to know that."

"Spill!"

"It's Seamus, what do you want me to say?"

"Hermione," she whined.

"Fine, fine. It went... Nice. He's a great guy, funny, I was laughing throughout the night."

"And the kiss?"

"What kiss?"

"You didn't kiss?"

"He kissed my cheek twice, that's all."

She sighed leaning back into the couch. "How boring."

She eyed Ginny peeling the skin of the orange back, taking a large bite. "Ginny?"

"Mmm?"

"I love having you here, you're always welcome, but go home. I won't be subjected to Harry's wrath later."

She nodded tucking the sticky orange in her pocket, and threw some powder into the hearth. She disappeared in the emerald flames.

Hermione went up to her room, and saw Crookshanks lying on her bed, his tail swishing back watching the little owl on her desk with contempt. She patted his head, and sat in front of her desk. "Hello again, Lunus," she greeted feeding him a treat out of her palm. She picked up the dropped envelope.

_Hermione,_

_It feels strangely intimate to be using your first name. It's not to suggest that I don't like it. I think it's like tasting chocolate for the first time; if I were to remember. It's new, foreign, but incredibly sweet, and afterwards you desire more. I think I could never tire of your sweet name._

_Can you sleep? I can't. At night I'm plagued by the things that happened. For the first night of my insomnia I drunk a cup of warm milk. After a week I began taking potions. No one can live on them, and after another week I pitched them. I haven't slept well in three years. Cold sweats, I cry, I scream, and no one hears me. I'm alone to fend for myself, but that doesn't scares me. I can fend for myself just fine. It's in the nights that I grow weak with memories. I could forget, there's a potion for it, but I don't want to forget. This is the punishment I seek out. I'm not meant to forget, or to sleep. That's your retribution to me._

_Please tell me you can sleep. If you can, perhaps I may be able to too._

_Awake_

If he knew what happened then he knew Hermione wouldn't have slept. If it was him, he would know. What if it wasn't him? For now, he wouldn't be him. It would be simpler that way. It wouldn't hurt so much.

_Awake,_

_Something happened on one of my adventures. I wasn't able to sleep for a year. I had no potions to rid myself of it, and how I wished I had something. If I used a spell I would've been of no use to anyone, because it would make me forget my purpose for surviving, and forget the friends that slept by my side every night. They would wake me when I screamed. They were there for the event that caused my nightmares, and the looks on their faces told me that they dreamt it too. They could feel my pain in my cries. I would never wish it on anyone, but plenty has been through it. I'm one of many, and I'm one of the lucky._

_I sleep well now. I can sleep through a night without a nightmare. I hope the same for you. Tonight, I'll pray that you can sleep._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

Hermione sealed it, and Lunus flew off into the inky sky. The night was humid, and she shut the windows. If Lunus was back in the morning he could tap on the pane. She curled under the covers of her bed, her head on the silkiness of her pillow. A single tear crept it's way out of the crinkle of her eye, memories of the night lurking to the front of her mind. Bellatrix's face, the pain that wracked her body. She vaguely could hear Ron yelling from someplace very far. He called her name many times, and it was all she could do not to give in, and die. She survived for her friends, and her parents. Without them there would've been nothing to live for.

Crookshanks moved closer to her body as if to comfort her, and she cried herself to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Sleep Deep

It was like a thousand swords piercing her flesh. Her hands clawed the rug beneath her, half expecting to feel blood instead of finely woven materiel. Her throat ached, and it might've been bleeding too. She couldn't tell, she could only feel the pain.

"Hermione!"

Someone was screaming her name... Ron. It was Ron, he was nearby, but he wasn't helping. He was locked in that cellar, now she remembered. The pain let up. She heard a cackle, and cracked open her eyes enough to see Bellatrix's wild, ecstatic face. Only someone evil could enjoy the pain she was giving.

"Mudblood, filthy little mudblood, you're worthless. Did you hear your pathetic blood traitor friend calling for you? Too bad he'll never see you again. Perhaps we'll let him see your mangled body after we're through."

There was that pain again. It burned her insides. She couldn't think. She wanted it to end, she wanted to die, to forget everything. Please, let her kill her, let it all end. Everything went black. She hoped never to wake again, but she did, and she wasn't where she dreamt she was.

She was in her darkened room. Crookshanks gone for the night in search of stray mice outside.

Hermione didn't know why she did, but she needed to get it out of her system, like a type of poison that was infecting her. She feared she wouldn't be able to sleep again unless she wrote.

_My Friend,_

_I lied. I can't sleep, not every night. I still dream about that event. I can feel the pain as if it were fresh, and I hear every word, every syllable that was spoken to me, and I wish in my dreams that I would die, just like I did that night._

_Have you ever wanted to give up? Nights like tonight make me wonder if I hadn't survived would everything be okay. I'm bossy by nature, I'm sure you know, and I have to make sure everything is in order before I make a final decision. Even in distress this hindered me. If I knew everything would've been okay, I would have been set to leave this earth._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

She blew softly on the wet ink, and folded it neatly. Wrapping her dressing gown around her she crept downstairs. She didn't know why, she was the only one in the house, but the silence asked for it, and she obeyed.

She walked into the blaze of the fireplace, and entered the Potter's home. She had been told that she could use Pig (Ron's owl) whenever she needed, and she did, to write her parents. Pig had grown quite attached to Ginny in the years, and because of its small stature he couldn't fly to, and from Asia easily. It would take too long.

Hermione saw Pig resting in its cage of the corner of the room. She avoided the spot behind the couch where she had interrupted Harry, and Ginny, and went to Pig. He hooted softly, and eagerly.

"Wait one moment, Pig." She bent over the desk, and used Harry's quill to add to her letter.

_P.S. This is Pig. I'm borrowing him from Ginny to send this right away. He's very... Energized, so I hope he doesn't wake you, and if he does, I'm sorry in advanced._

Pig took the letter, and she opened a window to let him out. She went back into the flames to sleep. If she could.

* * *

Hermione had woke with sore eyes the next morning, but she refused to think about the same thing she fell asleep crying to. She had a job to do. She went into work two hours early, and faced Mr. Shacklebolt's lectures, and shut herself in her office for the rest of the day. She didn't even come out for lunch, and nobody bothered her. She stayed three hours over, and continued to work, her quill scratching vigorously over parchment after parchment.

Her door creaked open, and Harry's head poked through. She sat her quill down massaging the tendons in her hand. "Hello, Harry, what time is it," she yawned.

Harry didn't look at his watch. "Eleven."

"Oh."

"That's it?"

"I have a lot of work to do, so if you could make this quick."

Harry sat in one of the two chairs in front of her. "The work can wait until tomorrow. It's not meant to be done quickly, you know that."

"What's your point?"

He peered closely at her. "You had a nightmare last night."

Hermione looked defiantly at him. "Get on with it, Harry."

"What happened? You don't have these nightmares unless something triggers them. What was it?"

"It was nothing, just a bad night."

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Have dinner with us tomorrow night. Teddy'll be there. It'll get your mind off of it."

Hermione thought it over. She would love something to distract her, though she knew this was Harry's way of making sure she didn't work overtime again. She glanced at her paperwork. Harry didn't miss a beat.

"It can wait."

She shrugged half heartedly. "Who's cooking?"

"I am. Don't worry, since we've been married I won't let Ginny near the cooker."

They laughed, and she agreed. Ginny's cooking was horrid. The first time she ate her kidney pie in the summer before their fourth year she was sick for two days. In fact everyone was, Mr., and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Harry. The only two that weren't were mysteriously Fred, and George, but Ginny's pygmy puff, Arnold, who ate boogies was sick. Hermione had the strongest inclination that they fed it to him.

* * *

It had become expectant to see Lunus in her room. Crookshanks remained ill-tempered on her bed as Lunus hooted gleefully when Hermione walked in. She dumped out a few treats, and read her letter.

_Hermione,_

_It flatters me that you sent a letter when you couldn't sleep. I like the fact that you can trust me with your feelings. I'm unworthy of it, but I won't dwell. Like you said, dwelling eats us, and I much like being in one piece._

_Have no worries, I like Pig, even if he did hop on my pillow, and bit my ear. But I hope Weasley knows that this feather ball isn't really a pig._

_Sleep deep, sleep well, sleep. Give it another go. If you do, I will too._

_Trustworthy_

_Trustworthy,_

_I'm sure Ginny knows. I kind of like it, the biggest contradiction ever. Much more amusing than naming a black cat Snowy, or a dog Cat._

_Tonight I will try. I'll enter the realm of dreams, and dream something sweet. Like you? Now I believe that to be funny, because I'm sure you're nowhere near being sweet. Sour like hard candy? A person to make you cry, yet you can't get enough of._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

"Safe flight," she wished Lunus as he took off, and she pushed herself away from her desk to fall into her bed. That night she did sleep deep, and well.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Something More

A week past. A week worth of a case solved, new cases taken, and a drawer full of letters from her mystery writer. She had dinner with the Potter's like promised, spending time with Teddy who was growing so fast. To top off a great week, she had her date with Seamus that night. This time it was a club he liked to attend called Toxic Webb's, and what did this call for? A new dress, but Ginny had to wait until the foot high of paperwork was finished. She was nearly done when Mr. Shacklebolt came into her office.

"Ms. Granger."

"Hello, sir. Something I can help you with?"

"Yes, there is," he took a seat drumming his fingers on the arm rests before speaking again. "There's a ball coming up in exactly two weeks. It's a thank-you for everyone who has donated money for the rebuilding of Hogwarts."

"That sounds nice, sir, but does it have anything to do with me?"

"Prior to it I want you to take the day off." He held up a hand to silence her when she began to disagree. "It's one day, Ms. Granger. I want you to relax the day before, have a great time the day of, and you may come back to work the day after only if you so choose."

Hermione felt that it was a losing battle. "Okay, sir. If you say so."

He nodded, and left her office. He wasn't going to give up easy. One day she would have to take a vacation if for no other reason to shut them all up. She was glad that they cared, but did they have to care so much? Maybe she would take a vacation, she could bring her work along. They wouldn't be any of the wiser. No, they weren't thick, they would make sure she didn't do something as Ron called it, "Hermionish."

She left work on time that day letting Ginny pull her into four shops before finding the perfect "club dress." One that was a glittering ruby red, came to the knees, and had thin straps. It came low on her back, and when she wore it that night the breeze chilled her, and she cursed her friend. It didn't last long however, because once they were in Toxic Webb's it became hot, and she was grateful for the dress.

Hermione wasn't one to go out to clubs. She thought they were too loud, and she didn't think Seamus to be the type either. It did make sense for a man who enjoyed the yelling, and cheering at Quidditch games to like loud music. It was a wonder he wasn't deaf.

Nonetheless she enjoyed herself. He twirled her on the dance floor as a local wizarding band shook the walls, and vibrated the floors. Rivers of fire snaked their way above them lighting the room. He pulled her to him, and she got a whiff of his cologne, a fresh scent like one would have after exiting the shower. She was starting to like being close to him.

By her hands he pushed her away, and brought her back, and once kept her to him. She was held against him, her mouth close to his. She noticed his eyes, bright blue flecked with silver. They were mesmerizing, and she wondered why she never saw it before. He bent down, and kissed her. It was simple, and short for a moment later he let go, and they both were smiling like two fifteen year-olds in a new relationship.

Seamus put his mouth to her ear, and whispered, "if I knew kissing you would feel like that I'd have kissed you sooner." While he was there he pecked her cheek, and she let out a giggle that she silently cursed herself for, but he didn't seem to notice.

An hour later they were at her door, flushed in the face from the dancing. He kissed her for the fourth time that night, and when he was turned away she was struck with an idea, and pulled him by his arm back to her.

"Seamus, there's a ball coming up in two weeks. It's kind of a thank-you for everyone who donated money to rebuild Hogwarts. I was wondering if you'd like to come?"

"Be your date?"

"Yes."

He kissed her again, and said, "it's a date," and he bowed himself off the porch in a grand gesture that made her laugh.

When Hermione shut the door, she called, "come out, Ginny. I know you're here."

Ginny sat up from the couch, and grinned. "How was the date?"

"Doesn't Harry miss you?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"You know what I mean, Ginerva."

She grimaced. "Don't call me that. Fine, he does, but I can assure you that if he didn't need to cook supper he would be here too. I relay everything to him, except the gory details."

"Nice to know."

"Sit down, already. How was the date?"

Hermione took a seat next to her, a blush creeping on her cheeks. She didn't need to say anything.

"He kissed you!"

She nodded modestly, but smiled despite herself.

"How was it?"

"It was okay."

"Only okay?"

"It was a kiss, Ginny. It's not supposed to be something out of those romance novels you read."

"Shhh, Harry doesn't know about those. And you're _supposed_ to feel something."

Hermione nodded vaguely not feeling up to discussing it. She changed the subject, "did you hear about the ball?"

"We got our invitation yesterday. It's exciting isn't it? It'll be nice to be in Hogwarts again."

Hermione agreed, but she didn't have a chance to voice that, because Harry chose that moment to have his head appear in the fire. "Ginny, leave her alone already, and come home. All right there, Hermione?"

"Fine, Harry. You okay?"

"Three deatheaters caught. Still counting on the ones that fled to Japan," he said wearily.

After the war deatheaters disappeared to all parts of the world. It was the reason Ron was sent off. A lot of them were.

Ginny waved him away. "Give me a few minutes, Harry -"

"I resent that she gets more time with you than I do. Come home, you can see her in the morning."

Hermione jest, "why don't you two just move on in?"

"Don't give her any ideas, Hermione!"

Ginny winked at her, "I'll see you tomorrow," she promised, and followed her husband's head into the fire.

Hermione was making her way up the steps to her room when she considered sleeping on the couch. Her legs felt as though they would fall off at any moment. She thought of her warm comfy bed, with the feathered pillows, and she forced herself to climb. Then there in her room, at her desk was her feathered friend.

"Another letter for me, Lunus?" She sprinkled treats at his feet, and began to read the latest letter from her pen pal.

_Hermione,_

_Sour. Funny, Granger. Very funny. You have an odd sense of humor, but I suppose it's a step up of having none at all (ha)._

_Did you sleep well last night? I couldn't, but I'm not surprised. I never do, not even with I think of you. In fact, it makes it worse, but lets not get into that, answer me something instead. Would you go back to change the past?_

_Still Awake_

Hermione thought of the time turner in her third year to take additional classes. It was killing her from exhaustion before she was willing to admit that it wasn't going to work, but she did do something amazing with it. She went back in time with Harry to free a hippogriff, and his godfather. Would she change anything else? No, not even the worst night of her life. Everything worked out for the best, and she knew the horrible repercussions that could take place if an event was changed. She read enough about it when she decided to use the time turner.

_Still Awake,_

_A step up, huh? I'm going to pretend like I didn't read that. Your sarcastic nature, you reminded me of someone, yet I can't put my finger on a name, and it's probably best that I don't try. I have a feeling it's not good._

_No, everything worked out for the best, don't you agree? Don't suppose you do... Even if it were to get rid of my nightmares, I couldn't. Everyone suffered during the war, and being in the midst of it, it was going to happen. I didn't expect to live through it, but I'm grateful that I did, it was more than I could ask for._

_Now, you can answer me something of a different question. When you kiss someone, do you believe in feeling something. If someone asks you what it was like, are you supposed to say something other than "okay?" Is there supposed to be more?_

_Your Friend, Hermione_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The Ball

Like Mr. Shacklebolt told her, Hermione took two days off. If any good came out of it she would look amazing for the ball, and it would get her boss to quit nagging about a vacation.

Ginny convinced her to pamper herself, and together with Luna they signed into a spa. Hermione felt that it was a waste, but all of her misgivings vanished when she received her first massage. She hadn't realized how tense she was until it was soothed away.

They had the works done, the massages, mud baths, milk baths, facials, manicures, pedicures, and so on. Luna talked of similar rituals involving creatures Hermione was certain didn't exist, but she listened anyhow. When they first met Hermione thought she was an annoying freak, but soon turned into a wonderful friend she would never trade. It's been years since she had tried to debate with her. It was oddly refreshing how little Luna cared about what people thought. Most of their friends didn't.

When it was time to go home she felt nostalgic. It didn't last long, however, because she was greeted by Lunus' upbeat hooting when she dropped her luggage at her bedroom door. Another letter...

_Hermione,_

_I can't say whether, or not there should be "something more." I have yet to kiss a girl, and feel something other than hormones, and flesh on flesh. Sometimes I think there are things that are meant to only be found in fairytales. I would like to ask what that question was about... I don't know if that's appropriate, so I'll leave the final decision to you._

_I confess there's one thing I'd like to change above all (there's a lot), because the image of it is burned so forcefully into my memory it's torture to this day. It happened years ago, during the war. I wish to forget, or have someone obliviate me. It sounds rash, but I know you understand._

_The dark lord is gone, the remaining deatheaters are being caught. I feel stuck in the middle. I don't belong to either side, and while I'm not being charged I continue to suffer my punishment by memories I have no right to grieve over._

_We knew each other, but not well. I want you to tell me something pleasant, and random about yourself. I'll go first. The first time I rode a broom I crashed, and broke my arm. I know that isn't pleasant, but if you knew my name you'd be laughing. I wish I could hear you laugh with the knowledge that I caused it, because it would be sweeter than anything I've done. Maybe it could make up for past indiscretions. No, it wouldn't, but it would be sweet. Like chocolate._

_Mended_

Hermione smiled at the shining emerald words. Something in her stirred, and she didn't know what it was. Pity, sympathy, or empathy. Maybe flattery. None of those felt right, but she didn't want to explore to find out what it really was.

_Mended,_

_I won't ask you to explain why you can't sleep, or what you've done to cause yourself this pain, but I hope that one day you'll tell me. I forgave you without pause, and I won't take it back, but I believe I have the right to know. One day, when you're ready, please tell me, but remember this, if something hurts you, you hold the right to grieve. It helps you move on. I want that for you._

_Pleasant, and random... I love the night sky. I love sitting out in my backyard simply watching the stars. There's something so beautiful, and tranquil about it._

_Your friend, Hermione_

She checked her watch as Lunus left out the window. It was time to get ready. She showered, pulled on a long dark blue dress that flowed around her so fluidly it was like water itself, the sleeves long, and the back non-existent. She slipped into matching heels. They weren't too high, just enough to give her a bit of a boost. She was only 5'3.

She gathered her hair into an antique butterfly clip, a few curls framing her face where she added a dab of make-up, and right when she laid down the tube of lipstick the doorbell sounded. Hermione doubled back to the mirror to make sure everything was in place before going downstairs.

Outside Seamus stood in a crisp white dress robe, a small white carnation in his hand. He sucked in a breath when he saw her. "Beautiful," he said in a low voice.

She bent to the door locking it while trying to hide her very red face. She turned around, knowing she was still blushing, and he held up the flower. It was cut short at the stem, and he asked, "may I?"

She wasn't sure what he was going to do, but nodded. Gently he placed the stem behind her ear, his fingertips grazing her lobe. She gazed at him curiously.

"I wanted us to match somehow," he explained.

Hermione thanked him, noticing how the flower stayed securely with a spell. _Creative,_ she thought, and took his outstretched arm. He apparated outside the iron gates of Hogwarts. People loomed about, chatting excitedly, but she didn't look to see if she recognized any of them she was staring at the looming castle. It looked no different than it had before the reconstruction. That had been the point. Hogwarts was very old, that was part of its charm, and everyone wanted to preserve that.

Hermione was taking back to her years there when the "horseless" carriages came up. They were in fact drawn by threastles, dark, but beautiful creatures that could only be seen if someone's seen death. At first only Harry, Nevielle, and Luna were able to see them. After the war, most of them were able to, including Hermione. Most of their year watched Voldemort die, but there was no telling if that was the cause, because there were a lot of deaths that day.

Harry, and Ginny walked up to them. They were matching in deep purple attire that almost looked black. The couples greeted each other, and climbed into one of the carriages shortly joined by Nevielle, and Luna. Happily Seamus reconnected with them swapping short stories until they came to a sharp halt. Seamus went out before her, and helped her down the steps.

It was like entering Hogwarts for the first time. Except she was much older than eleven. If she were to be honest with herself she would have admitted that she felt older than twenty-one. In the entrance hall Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher, and the Head of Gryffindor house stood high on the stone steps. Everyone went silent. She still had gray streaked hair in a bun, and a very stern look, but she smiled when she looked over at them.

"Welcome," she said. "We are very grateful by the large amounts of donations that were given to this school. Thanks to you I no longer have a leaky roof in my classroom."

Laughter rippled through the crowd. Some were uncertain if they should laugh. McGonagall rarely made jokes.

She continued, "we are here to have a glorious evening, so if you will step into the Great Hall, and enjoy." She waved her wand at the large arched doors, and they opened.

Hermione gasped when she saw inside. The ceiling remained enchanted to mirror the sky, and she could see the stars speckled the inky blackness, but that wasn't why she was amazed. Four orange, and yellow trees stood in each corner of the room, each flecked with one of the houses colors. Candles floated above them, the four long tables that usually occupied the room were gone, and replaced by more than fifty round ones draped in silver cloth with golden goblets, and plates. They encircled a spot on the floor that was meant for dancing. Cheerful music was being played where the professors normally sat by a professional looking band, all wearing dress robes. She never saw it look so lovely.

Harry, Ginny, Luna, Nevielle, Dean, Katie, George, Angelina, Seamus, and Hermione shared a very large table to the side. Like in the carriage, only nosier they talked, and told stories, reminiscing. She was starting to feel like a school girl again with all of her friends, but things were wonderfully different. Dean, and Katie were married, so was George, and Angelina. Nevielle, and Luna were dating exclusively, and Hermione knew that Nevielle was waiting for the right time to pop the question. She knew that he didn't need to worry about it, because Luna would be the one to mention it, probably casually over a shared meal.

Their dinner was nearly over, and couples were slowly straying out to the dance floor. Seamus took her hand limply in his, and nodded towards the center of the room. He enfolded her in his arms, and they moved together slowly around the floor.

It was sudden, the sensation in her gut telling her that someone was watching her closely, and though Seamus' eyes were locked in on hers, she knew it wasn't him. She broke the contact, and searched around for the source.

She wasn't ready for what she saw. It hit her like a fist to her past, something unexpected that shook her. It wasn't because he was there, his presence was to be expected, but the way he was staring at her... That was a different thing entirely. Draco Malfoy's eyes didn't waver from hers, it was steady, and his face emotionless, his frigid body draped in all black clothing, slacks, button shirt, and robe. There had always been at least the look of disdain, or hatred. It was as though he put up walls to hid what he was feeling, but why? Was she right, and he really was her mystery writer?

"Malfoy," Seamus spat seeing where her attention had gone. "Wonder what the bloody hell he's staring at?"

"I don't know," she said in undertone.

"Maybe he's staring at Hermione," Ginny said next to them, her arms around Harry. "You look gorgeous tonight."

"I'm not saying you're not beautiful, because you are," Seamus warned, "but a pureblood won't think that way. They don't see appearances, they see lineage, and nothing but."

"Especially a Malfoy," Harry settled.

It was thirty minutes later, and Hermione remained uneasy. Malfoy wasn't letting her out of his sight, and she had half the mind to go up to him, and tell him off. Instead, she stood from the table where her, and her friends rested at.

"I'm going to get some fresh air."

Seamus stood immediately, "I'll go with you."

She eyed him warily. "I can take care of myself."

"I know, Hermione, we all know that, but -"

"I'll be back. If I'm gone more than ten minutes than you're more than welcome to check on me." She was a bit peeved that he felt the need to protect her, as sweet as it was, she was just going outside, it wasn't as if they were in a war. That was over.

Hermione strolled out of the castle, and onto the grounds. It was nice, and warm, a perfect summers night. She spotted the tree near the lake that she used to sit under with Harry, and Ron. She remembered nagging them about their homework, how they would prefer to relax than get some work done. They had grown up to be fine men, but she didn't regret all of her pushing. They would probably be stuck in their third year without her help. She laughed at this. She didn't give them enough credit, but she was certain they wouldn't have had the marks they did.

She stood by the tree, and tilted her head to look at the stars scattered over the sky. It put humility into her to know how small she was, and how soon she would be gone. She would long leave the earth before those stars died out. They would be the same stars her great great grandchildren would stare at. It was amazing.

"Granger."

Hermione jumped, and twirled around facing a man that was as pale, and blonde as he had been when he was a boy. He had grown taller, she only reached the middle of his chest. He didn't look at her, but at the stars that had put her in a daze.

"Personally, my favorite constellation is Draconis."

"What a surprise," she muttered. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Who said I wanted anything, Granger? I simply came out here for the stars."

She snorted. "You've been staring at me all night."

"Have an ego now do we?"

Her face burned, but it did answer one question. He wasn't her mystery writer. He was Malfoy, and he would never change. "The only one with an ego is you."

"You've never been good with witty comebacks."

"Speak for yourself, ferret."

He raised a brow, and glanced down at her. "I haven't been called that in three years."

"Doubt it."

"Okay, so I have, but every one who does gets hexed, so I'd watch that pretty mouth of yours."

Pretty? Even in a sarcastic sense Malfoy would never call her that. He wouldn't put her name into a compliment. Then again, he would have called her mudblood by now. She shook her head. It didn't mean anything, maybe he grew up a little, but it didn't mean that he was her writer. She felt a sort of sadness about that. She made herself sick.

"Goodbye, Malfoy," she turned to leave, but his hand lashed out grasping her arm roughly.

"Not so fast, Granger." He pulled her closer.

She could smell his peppermint breath, the dark scent of his cologne. She had never been this close to him before. She saw the fringe of his hair into his tempest eyes. She held her breath for a second, closing her eyes. She released a shaky breath. "Let me go," she hissed angrily. His fingers dug into her, liable to create bruises.

"Tell me, how have you been since Malfoy Manor?"

Horror struck her. "You're foul!"

"And you're a snotty bookworm. Now that we got our characteristics in order answer my question."

She wrenched away from his hold stepping back. "Don't touch me again. Don't you ever touch me! You don't want my muggle germs on you! It might just rub off!"

He reached for her, quick like the Seeker he was in school. His face came down to hers, their noses barely touching. "If I was so worried about your germs I wouldn't be this close would I?"

"What the hell do you want?"

"Oh, Granger language, when did you start cursing like that?" He seemed amused.

"I don't answer to you."

"Who do you answer to?"

"Nobody. I'm not a _pet_, Malfoy. I can't be kept."

He laughed at this. "You will one day."

"LET HER GO, MALFOY!"

Hermione jerked her head over her shoulder to see Seamus running down the hill, his wand out. Malfoy didn't let her go, his grip tightened.

"Go ahead, Finnigan. Lets see how good your aim is! Don't want to be hitting your girlfriend now, do you?"

"I was trained by the best Auror there is, don't bet that I wouldn't hit you."

"Don't bet that I wouldn't use her as a shield."

Seamus had reached them, his wand steady. "In minutes eight people will be here looking for her. You're not that good."

Malfoy glared at her. "This isn't over," he said pushing her towards Seamus who wrapped an arm around her. "Such a lovely couple." The disdain was back on his sneering face.

"Seamus! Did you find Hermione?" Harry was yelling from the castle steps.

"Yeah, she's here," he called. "She's fine." He looked down at her uncertainly, and she nodded.

Hermione refused to look at Malfoy. If she had, she might have seen something that would have made her question everything about him.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The New Assistant

_Hermione,_

_Have I ever told you how I love writing your name? I love how you write "your friend," after every one of your letters. It gives me hope that someday you won't hate me so much. I know you believe you don't, but trust me, you do. One day I'll tell you who I am, that's a promise._

_Please, tell me more amusing stories._

_Your Friend_

Hermione would put down her entire life savings to bet that this wasn't Malfoy. It couldn't be. If it wasn't him, then who could it be? Who else in her life had caused her pain? She would know if it were Ron, she knew his handwriting, and she didn't hate him in the least bit, and he knew that. It wouldn't be Krum, she would know his as well. She decided to let it go for the night. She wasn't going to figure it out then, she was giving herself a headache something she normally didn't get.

_My Friend,_

_I'll hold you to that promise. I've wracked my brain trying to think of who you are, and no name will come to me. It's driving me mad!_

_I have a very funny story! You're probably aware of it if you went to Hogwarts. One year, my fourth year, a professor turned this arrogant boy into a blonde, bouncing ferret. He was already blonde, so I suppose it just changed him into a bouncing ferret. I'm not sure I've ever laughed harder in my life._

_Now, it's your turn. Tell me something about you. Something good._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

Hermione assured herself that it wasn't Malfoy she was writing to. If it was, then that story should bring out some kind of response.

It was early morning. Hermione dressed for work, and hopped down the steps to her kitchen stopping abruptly. Harry fully dressed in his work robes sat in one of the chairs with a mug of coffee. He nodded towards her. "Morning, Hermione."

Harry went into work before her, and she checked her watch again. This couldn't be a good thing. "Is Ginny okay? Ron?"

He smiled sweetly, "They're both fine."

"Then why aren't you at the Ministry?"

He raked his fingers through his hair. "Sit down, Hermione."

Hermione did as he said, and waited. He looked grave, the way he fingered the handle of the mug, how he avoided her eyes.

"Kingsley contacted me last night. An assistant's been hired for you."

"That's great, isn't it" she exclaimed hesitantly. "I need an assistant, you won't believe the work that's piling up on me."

"I know who the assistant is..."

Hermione's smile failed. There was only one person left that could evoke that dread in him. "It can't be... Kingsley wouldn't hire him! Don't I have any say?! He doesn't even need a job!"

Harry held up a hand to calm her. "He says that he seems genuine; he wants to work, and that's a huge step for him. You know how he grew up."

Hermione clutched the end of the table. "That doesn't matter! Do you remember Dobby, Harry? How he was treated! I'm a lawyer for magical creatures, and he hates them, this can't possibly work!"

He stood, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I told all of that to Kingsley, but he reckons this is a good idea. I tried, I really did. I don't like this anymore than you do. It worries me after what happened at the ball."

Hermione closed her eyes exasperated. It happened only a couple of weeks ago. Seamus had taken her straight home after the encounter. She couldn't understand the events. Why had he followed her? Why talk with her? Why ask her about the Malfoy Manor. It took three days to rid herself of the nightmares that conversation caused. There it goes, that headache pulsing in her brain.

"I'll be fine," she assured her friend. "Just... Don't tell Seamus, he'll have a fit."

"Everything going on okay with you two?"

"Yeah," she smiled. Seamus was a sweet guy. "Thanks for telling me, Harry. We better get into work, Mr. Kingsley is more likely to yell at you than me."

* * *

Hermione sat behind her desk in her office highlighting words on a document with her wand. She bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. She highlighted another sentence. She was feeling much better now that she had been at work for two hours, and took her a potion for her oncoming migraine. that, and her assistant had yet to show up. She entertained the idea that he changed his mind.

She glanced up to the extra desk that had been sent into her office that was meant for Malfoy. She would have it removed by the end of the day.

Then there was a sharp knock her door. Hermione flicked her wand, and it opened. She sighed. There stood Kingsley looking no happier than Harry, and Malfoy who had his arms crossed over his chest smugly. Like at the ball he wore all black, but much more casual, leaving off the dress robe. He smirked at her, and she felt her stomach roll. Politely she stood, and motioned for them to sit in the two seats in front of her.

Malfoy fell into one of the seats getting comfortable, Kingsley didn't move. "No thanks, Ms. Granger. I just came by to introduce you to your new assistant. I take for granted that you're familiar with Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, I do believe we have met on many occasions." She glared, and muttered, "regrettably."

Mr. Kingsley didn't hear this. "Then I'll leave you to get reacquainted," he shut the door behind him.

Hermione slammed her hands on the desk, and was satisfied to see Malfoy flinch. "Listen here, _Mr. Malfoy_, this is my career, I'm the boss, and you'll do as I say. You have a responsibility to make sure things are done right, and I will _not_ have anything damaged. These are magical creatures, and whatever your problem is with them you will keep it to yourself, are - we - clear?"

That stupid smirk was back on his face. "Clear as crystal."

Hermione took a stack of papers that were nearly a foot high, and dumped them in his arms. "Your desk is over there," she pointed, "get to work."

"Will do, Ms. Granger," he said snidely.

For the next three hours the worked in silence until Hermione leaned back, stretched, and stood. "I'm going to lunch," she said moving to exit the door.

"May I join you?"

She looked over, holding the doorknob. "You were two hours late, and I don't look kindly upon tardiness. In two hours, you can eat."

"Wow, Ms. Granger, you make Umbridge look nice."

Hermione shot him a glare. "Finish up, Mr. Malfoy, I would hate to keep you over." She slammed the door. Was she that cruel before the war? She shrugged to herself. She was nothing like Umbridge, it was stupid to dwell on it. Malfoy was stupid. Why would he want to eat with her anyway? She continued on her way to meet Ginny for lunch at the Three Broomsticks forgetting about her new assistant for the time being.

* * *

"Harry told me about Malfoy. How's he working out?"

Hermione glanced up from her butterbeer. She shook her head seeing how Ginny was trying not to smile. "He was two hours late, so I told him he had to wait two hours for lunch."

"Harsh, Hermione."

"I know..."

Ginny's face suddenly fell. "Are you sure you told him that?"

"Yes, why?"

She jerked her head over to the door, and Hermione looked over from their booth in the corner to see Malfoy walking towards them. She groaned. "That ferret... I told him to stay."

"He's a ferret, not a dog... You know, he's grown to be rather handsome."

"Sod off, Ginny," she said, and her friend laughed. She knew Ginny had no prejudices when it came to who belonged to what house. Hermione thought she didn't either, but she did. She never met a good Slytherin.

"Hello, ladies. Thought I'd join you," Malfoy greeted them.

Hermione shot to her feet. "I told you two hours, Mr. Malfoy. It has hardly been thirty minutes."

"I'm finished -"

"You can't hardly be finished with the work I gave you! That was close to being a foot of papers. Get back to work, there's a lot to be done."

"It'll be done, lighten up -"

"I'm your boss, and you cannot speak to me that way!"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm hungry, Granger. I didn't eat a scrap all day. Let me join you, and I promise every document will be thourghly searched. You have my word."

"If only your word was worth one knut."

A dangerous glint crossed in his eyes. "I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a liar!"

"Let him," Ginny said. "Look at it this way, Hermione, if he doesn't keep his promise you can fire him."

Malfoy smiled. "Listen to the girl-Weasel."

"You can eat with us, but if you call her that again, I'll personally have you kicked out for disturbance."

Ginny huffed, "I've been called worse."

Hermione glared warningly at Malfoy to keep his mouth shut, and he did sliding in the booth next to her. He existed in stillness as the two friends carried on with their conversation about the Quidditch matches that were coming up, and the training Ginny was undergoing. They halted however, when Hermione saw two girls one blonde in a high ponytail, the other covered with freckles giggling in a table next to theirs staring, and pointing at Malfoy. She snapped. "It's rude to point," she corrected them.

They looked horrified at being addressed by her, the one in the ponytail mad, but before they could retort back, Malfoy spoke to Ginny, and Hermione loudly. "You two _are_ sitting with the third most richest, and eligible bachelor in Great Britain."

Hermione huffed. "Let me remind you that Harry was first before he married Ginny, and you're right behind Ron, and Nevielle!"

"There's no need to get into detail, Granger, but let me remind _you_ that I have more money than both of them put together."

Freckles pouted, and Hermione suppose the girl thought it was cute. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Bachelor," Hermione muttered angrily, "means single."

Malfoy puffed out his chest. "No, ladies, she's not."

They giggled obnoxiously, and Malfoy smirked proudly. "May we join you," ponytail asked.

"No you may not," Ginny answered loftily for him. "Malfoy, if you like to sit with them, go right on, but Hermione, and I are having lunch together."

Malfoy shook his head, "I'm with them," he said to the giggle feast that had turned quickly into a vacant table at those words.

Hermione, and Ginny continued on with their discussion, and at the end of their meal Ginny hugged her, and went to say goodbye to Malfoy who kissed her knuckles. Ginny's face changed shades to become as red as her hair, and she apparated with a hint of a grin. Hermione bit her tongue, a physical pressure on her chest.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Midnight Letters

Hermione dropped her briefcase haphazardly on the floor in her lounge. She had been looking forward to firing Malfoy that day, but he kept to his promise, and finished going over every document, even making some improvements. She didn't know why she was angry if he was doing the job well. It was just... _Malfoy_. She had put up with him enough during Hogwarts, she didn't want to see him now.

She went up the stairs, and smiled lightly at the owl perched on her desk. She fished out a some treats, and left them at his feet.

She went into the bathroom wanting to cool down before she read her pen pals letter. There was no better way to do that than take a long bath. She lit the scentless candles, and filled up the tub with lukewarm water, and lots of lavender bubbles.

The more she soaked the more she calmed. It was Malfoy after all, there could be plenty of opportunities to fire him, and if they didn't come along, perhaps he would quit. If that didn't work out either, then she would get used to having him around. If he was helping cases involving magical creatures, then she could grow to the idea that he had changed. What other choice did she have?

It was midnight when she stepped out dressing in a blue camisole top, and matching boxers. Hermione settled at her desk picking up the envelope Lunus dropped. She ripped it open with apprehension. This might tell if it was Malfoy.

_Hermione,_

_That is funny. It sounds as if he had it coming._

_Once in Hogwarts this beautiful girl made a joke in Herbology about a plant. I can't recall the joke, but I do recall her smile, and laughter. I laughed too, though no one noticed, and at the time it was a good thing, because if I had others would question my loyalties, or my sanity. She had dirt smeared over her cheeks, her hair its usual mess, but I thought she was beautiful. Just as beautiful as she was when she came into the Great Hall at the Yule Ball._

_Your Friend_

Hermione's eyes narrowed reading the letter again. So, he did go to Hogwarts, and apparently was in her year. She had told a joke in Herbology, everyone looked at her shocked that was the reason she remembered. It didn't mean that she was the girl he was writing about, but they had been together at some point in a six year proximity. They had to be enemies... Malfoy... No, she had already resolved that, it couldn't be, his response to her story was… Unfulfilled.

_My Friend,_

_Sounds like this girl means a lot to you. If you do not mind me asking, what happened?_

_Your Friend, Hermione_

Hermione sent Lunus off with her letter, and stood to dress. She pulled on a long periwinkle nightgown, brushed her hair back into a ponytail, and turned around to get into bed when she saw Lunus back with another letter. That was quick, usually her pen pal waited until morning to write back. She sat back at her desk.

_Hermione,_

_She was too good for me. I was a foolish kid. I didn't like her one bit. I loathed her, but recently I've seen her, and I can't believe how blind I've been to how wonderful she is. She's still too good for me._

_Your Friend_

_Friend,_

_I think it should be her decision of who's good for her. You should give her that choice. Tell her._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

She waited in case he was still up, and indeed he was. Lunus flew back in within minutes time. He had to live close to her.

_Hermione,_

_Unlike you, my dear friend, I'm not brave. I'm a coward. The day I tell you who I am, I'll tell her my feelings. That's a promise, and I always keep my promises. Tell me more about yourself._

_Your Friend_

_Friend,_

_I love the color blue. I love cats; I have one, his name is Crookshanks. I can never seem to manage my hair, but you should know that. I like to laugh, but who doesn't? My middle name is Jean, after my mother. I'm a lawyer, and active in magical creatures rights. I'm a muggleborn, and only child. I'm a flutist, I took eight years of lessons. I have a hallway full of pictures. I possibly have the cleanest teeth known to anyone (my parents are dentists). I love white carnations._

_You say you know me. I can't imagine that I know you. Tell me about you._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_I love green. Lunus is my only pet. My middle name is after my father. I work shuffling papers. I'm a pureblood, and only child. I'll share a secret with you, I've played muggle guitar since I was seven. I found something compelling about it. I love flying._

_Your Friend_

_Friend,_

_Flying scares me. I don't like being up that high without anything to catch me. One of my greatest fears. What are yours?_

_Your Friend, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_A repeat of history. Dying without change. Being alone._

_Your Friend_

_Friend,_

_I'll make you a promise now that you'll never be alone. I'll be here. There, that's one less fear you have._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_I'll take you up on that promise. Thank you._

_I hope you'll do me a favor, and keep Lunus until night when you send me a letter back. He looks like he's going to keel over. Thanks for the trouble. I'll talk to you soon._

_Your Friend_

Hermione glanced at her watch. It was nearing five in the morning. She had to be up in three hours. She couldn't believe how late they had stayed up simply writing back, and forth. She had never done such a thing, not even with Krum. Their letters had been sporadic, nothing so routine, nor deep. This was different, and she liked it.

Lunus had his head turned, and eyes closed. She felt bad; they did wear him out. She closed the window, and latched it. She would feed him in the morning, and let him rest for the day until she came home to write her friend.

Hermione climbed under the heavy covers, and set her mind to figuring out her pen pal. He didn't tell her anything that could possibly identify him. Of course, he wouldn't tell her anything that would give him away. If he wanted her to know he would outright tell her his name.

Despite that, she felt she felt closer to him. She loved writing him. She cared for him. She didn't even know him. No, that's not right, she did know him, just didn't know who he was. How could she possibly hate him? Before she could contemplate further she fell into slumber.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

The Mysterious Gift

Hermione felt dead on her feet. She didn't get less sleep since she was searching for the Horcruxes with Harry, and Ron three years ago. She drinked two cups of coffee hoping that would wake her, and only did slightly. She searched the cabinets in her kitchen for an Awakening Potion, but there was none. She would have to make through the day like a zombie.

She went into the office to find Malfoy at his desk over a stack of papers. He looked up when she came in, and said, "morning, Ms. Granger," and focused his attention back to the documents.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. How long have you been here?" She laid her briefcase by her desk sitting in her chair.

"Two hours. Since I was late yesterday I thought I'd get an early start today."

"That's adamant of you," she yawned.

"Tired?"

"A little."

Malfoy reached inside his cloak, and walked over sitting a bottle on her desk. "I was a bit tired today too."

"An Awakening potion?"

"Yeah."

She raised a suspicious brow. "You're carrying it with you?"

"Ms. Granger, I have a lot of work to do, either you take some, or you don't."

She glared, and took a sniff. It smelled like apples, but if he was trying to poison her, the scent would be easy to mask. She was too tired to really care, and took a chance in drinking it. After a quick swig he snatched it putting it back into the inside pocket of his cloak. He went to his desk without another word.

Hermione felt rejuvenated, like she had a long sleep. So he didn't slip anything into it. "Thank you," she mumbled, hoping that he caught it, because she wasn't going to say it again.

"You're welcome."

She extended her hand towards a binder of her latest case when she brushed against something soft. She moved her picture of her group of friends to find a white carnation lying there. She picked it up, and smiled brightly.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

"Hm," he acknowledged without looking up.

"Do you know where this flower came from?"

"Not the foggiest."

She fingered the petals thoughtfully. It was a bit disturbing not knowing who left it. No one had access to her office other than Kingsley, Malfoy, and herself, and she knew they didn't leave it there. She laid the flower back down, and took out her wand from her pocket. She marched to her door, and began casting warding spells on it.

"What're you doing?"

"Someone was in my office," she told him. "You, and Kingsley are the only ones besides me who have access to it, and neither of you left the flower."

"It's a flower, don't you think you're overreacting?"

"No."

"Oh, yes, I forgot you're a war hero. You probably think some deatheaters left it for you. Maybe it has some secret meaning, maybe Potter could take a look -"

Hermione turned her wand to him directing it under his chin. He cut of his sentence staring down at it. "You know nothing about the war."

"I was in it."

"You were on the wrong side! You know nothing of what happened to us."

"I think I was there for one thing. I know you haven't forgotten about the Manor incident -" With a resounding boom Malfoy was thrown off his chair, landing hard on the floor. He grunted, and cursed, but didn't try sitting up. Her wand stayed pointed at him.

"It was no incident! Your aunt tortured me purposefully, and if you ever mention it to me again not only will you be out of a job you'll wish you've never been born, understood?"

"Yes," he hissed.

Hermione put the wand back in her pocket, and took the seat at her desk. She refused to watch Malfoy painfully get to his feet. She didn't care. He could suffer.

A couple of hours later she left for a case, succeeding in transferring an abused houself to another family, and when she returned to her desk she glimpsed at her watch. It was late. She looked over at Malfoy who was continuing to work.

"Leave, Malfoy. It's late, go home, or wherever it is you go."

He nodded, and when he reached the door, he turned around. "Aren't you leaving too?"

"I have to write down the overview of this case."

"I'll help."

She looked up from her quill, and saw that he wasn't being sarcastic, or joking, he was serious. She held a grin. "That's very sweet of you, but I can do this." Did she just say that Malfoy was sweet? Oh she desperately needed sleep, it was starting to effect her.

Malfoy approached her desk. "I'm sorry."

She gaped at him. "What for?" She was going to make it a bit challenging for him, though it had to be challenging enough for him saying that to a muggle like her.

"For speaking of... You know. I was out of line, it won't happen again."

"Apology accepted."

He looked taken aback. "You forgive me?"

"Yes, now go home. You said you were tired this morning. Get some sleep."

Malfoy smiled at her. Not the smirk he usually carried, but a real smile. For her. She didn't have a chance to think about what it meant, because he left, closing the door behind him. She didn't want to think about it anymore. It was starting to make her head hurt, and she needed to focus on the overview.

Two, and a half hours later she was home. Somewhere between those hours her hair had fallen from her bun. The potion had wore off, and she was feeling the crash that threatened to engulf her.

Lunus was wide awake on her desk, and hooted his hello when she walked in. He looked a lot better, and even happier when she gave him his treats.

_My Friend,_

_It was no trouble, he's such a kind bird I can't think of him being a burden._

_Did you do okay today? I was almost dead on my feet._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

She sent Lunus off, and fell into a restless sleep. The Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix, and Malfoy replaced any dreams she might have had with horrors. Her body wracked with tremors. She cried, and screamed, and dug her nails into the rug. That horrible rug. She begged them to stop, begged her body to give in, and give up. Ron's pleads for her… Malfoy's frightened face…

_Hoot... Hoot... Hoot..._

Hermione's eyes sprung open, and she saw beside her pillow was Lunus. She wiped the sweat off her forehead, and took the letter from his beak. With shaking hands she opened it.

_Hermione,_

_I managed. Tonight, sleep deep, sleep well, and I'll send Lunus in the morn._

_Your Friend_

Hermione saw Lunus fly out of her open window where a light breeze played with the curtains. She clutched the letter, and fell to sleep once again. Her nightmares plaguing her for a second time.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Messages In Flowers

"Time for lunch," Hermione announced wearily in her office the following day.

Malfoy rose from his desk quickly. "I was thinking, about yesterday, sorry isn't enough, I should treat you to lunch."

Hermione stopped from pushing her chair in. "Why are you being so nice?" She didn't mean to sound uncouth, but it was so odd for him that it took her off guard. Where was his witty sarcasm, and cruel disposition?

"This isn't nice, this is simply being a gentleman."

"I hate to tell you, Mr. Malfoy, but that's redundant."

He laughed, "are you letting me, or not?"

She considered it for a moment. "Yes."

"Good!" He waved his wand, and everything on Hermione's desk floated up, and was softly sat on the floor. He dragged his chair, and black suitcase over. He slapped the case on the desk, and undid the latches.

"What're you doing," she asked astounded at the sandwiches, and bottles he was taking out.

"Treating you to lunch," he said slowly.

She huffed indignantly. "I don't want to eat anything a slave cooked!"

"You didn't have that problem in Hogwarts," he pointed out.

"Don't make me curse you again, Mr. Malfoy."

It appeared that he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from commenting, but soon let go, and said, "I don't have slaves, Ms. Granger. For your information I made everything you see in front of you."

She looked at it warily. Malfoy saw this.

"If I was going to poison you, I would've done it yesterday. You looked like hell, would've been easy."

"Sod off," she mumbled, and sat back in her chair unwrapping one of the sandwiches. She took a bite, and her eyes widened. Once she swallowed she exclaimed, "this is good!"

Malfoy guffawed. "I did try."

"How'd you learn? Thought your houselves did everything for you."

"My father was making business with this bloke one day, and he said something crude about my mother. I didn't like it very much, and was rude. Father told me that for being discourteous I had to do a houself's work for the day. Came to have an appreciation for the talent it took, and attempted to polish the skill."

"Do you still keep houselves?"

"Yes."

She glowered, and took a deep drink of the butterbeer.

"They're not slaves, Ms. Granger. They get paid, and paid vacations. They have clothes, and each their own room."

"Really," she asked disbelieving.

"I told you, I don't lie."

Hermione relaxed in her seat, and they continued talking of everything from houself rights, to the Quidditch season, and beyond. They made jokes, and laughed, and shared stories of the past three years. She knew his father was spending a lifetime in Azkaban, but recently discovered in their conversation that his mother was ill at home, stress, and depression over their broken family. At his poignant expression she changed the subject lamely to the weather.

"You're bad at that, you know?"

"Bad at what?"

"Changing subjects."

Hermione shrugged, and looked over the mess that was her desk. Empty wrappers, and goblets, she realized that they had been simply talking long after their meal. She looked at her watch, and jumped up. "We need to clear this off, we have work to do."

He chuckled, and by magic he set result of a good meal into his suitcase, and her belongings hovered back to her desk. "Let me do this for you tomorrow."  
She beamed, "no, I think it's my turn. Let me."

"Can you cook?"

"Of course!"

"I'm going to rephrase that question. Can you cook _well_?"

"No," she admitted shyly.

"Then I will."

She beamed. "Be careful, Mr. Malfoy. You might form a friendship with me."

He looked seriously at her. "And what if I do? What would you think of that?"

"I'd think you might actually be a good guy. It would ruin your reputation."

* * *

Hermione came home to find Harry, and Ginny sitting on her couch tossing a ball of yarn between them over a bating Crookshanks. Hermione looked at this odd scene before sitting down in a chair across from them. She kicked off her shoes, and rested, not bothering to inquire how long they had been there, or why.

"How was your day," asked Ginny. "You're late."

"Busy. Stayed back, and talked with Malfoy."

Harry casted a nervous glance at her. "Is he working out all right?"

"Actually, he's doing great. I'm impressed."

Ginny noticed the slight blush over her friends cheeks. "You like him, don't you?"

Harry, the greatest Seeker missed the yarn when it was thrown to him. It bounced off his chest, and onto the floor where Crookshanks pounced on it. "Tell me that isn't true?"

"He's... Nice. He's becoming a friend."

"I'll advise you not to tell Ron. He'd have kittens if he knew."

"You're okay with this," she asked skeptically.

Harry sighed, "I don't like it, but if he's treating you okay..." He stroked Crookshanks by his foot, not finishing his sentence.

Ginny snatched the yarn dangling it in front of the cat. "How're you doing with Seamus?"

"Okay..."

Ginny glanced worriedly over at her husband. "We were eating at Dean's, when Dean stopped by, you know, to oversee things, and he said that he'd never seen Seamus happier. He says he thinks... He's falling for you."

Hermione didn't know how to respond to this. They had been getting on real well, she had a great time when she was with him, but in spite of it all she didn't feel anything when he kissed her. Ginny said there had to be something there, but there wasn't.

Harry watched her intently. "Look, Hermione, you could easily break his heart. Be careful, okay?"

Hermione nodded. "I will." She bade them goodbye, and headed to her room.

On her desk laid an envelope, and a white carnation at Lunus' feet. She glowed, anxiously opening the latest letter from her pen pal.

_Hermione,_

_I've sent a flower, not only because it's your favorite, but it's meaning. Innocence, sweet, faithfulness, purity, ardent, and love. You're innocently sweet, pure, faithful to everyone you know, ardent about your work, and your love is overwhelming._

_Your Friend_

Hermione gazed at the flower lovingly, before taking it to the kitchen for a slender vase. She poured in some water from the sink, and sat it in the center of the table. Then, she had an idea, and ran outside in front of her house. She took three carnations, and ran back inside, and up the stairs. She plopped herself in front of her desk out of breath, Lunus ruffling his feathers in unease.

She took her wand aiming it at each flower. One transformed into a white Apple Blossom, the other a white Tulip, the last one a pink Gillyflower.

_My Dear Friend,_

_I love the flower. I love the meaning. Thank you. I'm repaying the favor in kind. Here are three flowers, each with different meanings. The Apple Blossom stands for promise. A promise of my friendship. The white Tulip for forgiveness, something I have done. The pink Gillyflower is for the bonds of affection between us._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

By string, she tied the flowers to the envelope, and gently tied it to Lunus' foot. "See you tomorrow, Lunus."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Watching Clouds

The next morning Hermione greeted Ginny who sat in her kitchen eating a stack of pancakes while she piled a couple on her own plate. "Who cooked these," she asked carefully.

"Harry; I brought them over."

Relieved, she sat across from her, and started cutting them in pieces with her fork. Out of the corner of her eye she became aware at Ginny looking at the Carnation her pen pal had given her.

"Out of your garden?"

"No."

"Seamus?"

"No."

"Then where?"

"Nobody."

Ginny put down her fork with a loud clatter, and Hermione looked up from her breakfast. "Who then? Who gave them to you?"

"Why're you making such a big deal of this, it's a flower." She realized that Malfoy had said the same thing of the flower in her office. No, that was a different situation entirely, and he was being a git.

"I want to know is all. Are you seeing anyone else? Is it Malfoy?"

This time Hermione dropped her fork. "I'm not seeing anyone else, and certainly not Malfoy. Please, let it go."

Ginny went back to eating, but not without giving dubious glances.

Hermione wasn't sure why she didn't tell her. She wasn't ready to say that she was corresponding with someone she once knew, an old enemy, but she had no idea who it was. That would take a long explanation, and then Ginny would want to read the letters, and she didn't want to share those. It was best this way, her own secret friend.

Ginny finished the last of the milk in her glass. "Do you like Seamus?"

"I wouldn't date him if I didn't."

"I mean like him long-term?"

Hermione stopped eating for a moment to ponder this. "Maybe... We haven't dated long, I'm not thinking long-term, not yet. Not everyone knows the moment they meet someone that they're going to love them. Not everyone's like you." It was well known that Ginny had fallen in love with Harry when she was ten, when she first saw him in the train station for his first year of Hogwarts.

Hermione grabbed her briefcase, gave her friend a short goodbye, and left for the fireplace. She hoped Ginny would keep the flower to herself, the last thing she needed was to be questioned by Harry.

* * *

"Morning, Hermione," Malfoy greeted.

She looked at him in awe. "We're on first name basis now?"

"You said you'd be a friend, and I call every friend of mine by their first name."

"Is that right, Draco?" His name felt as odd on her tongue as hearing her name on his lips. They both laughed, and set to work.

In an hour she left for another case. She was gone four hours, and when she returned she was in tears. She stood outside of her office doors, her hand on her handle, gulping the lump in her throat uselessly.

Bonnie was a thin houself belonging to an evil family. She was abused at least ten times daily, and she had been brave enough to seek help. She was an odd one, much like Dobby. Hermione had explained the situation to the Committee of Mistreatment of Magical Creatures, but it did no good, and she just knew that they had been paid off by the family. It was unfair, Bonnie was bound to be killed by the family for her misconduct. It was the first case that she didn't achieve.

Hermione ambled into her office, and leaned against the door shutting it with her weight. The tears wouldn't stop, and soon Draco was in front of her.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

She gasped for breath, and shook her head. "I failed." She wrapped her arms around her midsection in an act of protection, of dire need to stop her crying.

"You lost the case," he asked dumbly.

"Y-yes..."

"I'm sorry..."

"N-now B-bonnie will h-have t-to go back to th-that horribly family... It's n-not f-fair." They hardly had been friends for two days, and she felt very uncomfortable showing this vulnerable side of herself. She wanted him to go away so she could gather herself in peace, but he took her in his arms as if he had been doing it all along. It jolted her for a second, his dark scent, and warm strong chest.

"Shhh," he soothed. "It's all right..."

"N-no, it's n-not. She'll d-die."

He pushed her away, her back to the door, and he bent his face to hers. "Listen to me here, Hermione. Things happen that we can't control. You can't save everyone. If you expect yourself to you'll be highly disappointed. These things happen, they happen everyday, and you're not responsible for that."

"It's my j-job."

"No! You're job is to defend the person. You make no promises other than to do your best to _defend_ them. You helped Bonnie, you couldn't save her, but you helped her. She now knows that not everyone is like the family she serves, and that's a big deal."

Hermione bit her lip to keep it from trembling, but she couldn't stop weeping. She wiped her tears on the back of her hand in vain, for they kept falling, sliding past her cheek on her neck.

Draco let her go, and went to pick up his briefcase. "You're coming with me," he said, and grasped her arm apparatting them.

Hermione hated the feel of being squeezed through a tube. When she opened her eyes she was a little disoriented, but was winded by what she saw. Red, blue, and yellow wildflowers everywhere surrounding a large clear lake. The land seemed to go on forever until it was connected with the blue horizon.

"Where are we?"

Draco released her arm, and replied, "the Manor."

She shot him a look, "what?"

He dropped his suitcase holding up his hands in defense. "We're far away from the house, you can't even see it from here. This is what you could call part the backyard."

"_This_ is your backyard."

He grinned. "Nice, isn't it?"

"No, it's gorgeous. But, why did you bring me here?"

He touched her cheek with his thumb capturing a stray tear. "This is where I go whenever I'm upset. It's peaceful, and no one knows of it aside from my parents, and now you."

"Why me?"

"We haven't been friends for long, Hermione, but I got a good feeling that you're going to be the best. I wanted to share this with you. Enjoy it, don't question it."

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger hugged Draco Malfoy. She inhaled her musky cologne losing herself for a second. "Thank you," she whispered relieving him of her hold.

Out of spontaneity she dropped to her back on the ground seizing Draco's hand, and dragging him down with her. He laid on his back next to her, his hands under his head.

"We'll get grass stains," he warned.

"We have magic," she said matter-of-factly. She pointed up to the clouds, "what does that look like to you?"

"A tipsy hag."

She laughed. "How many tipsy hags have you met, Draco?"

"Used to sneak into Hogshead. What does it look like to you?"

"A bunny."

"A bunny? Seriously? I think you may be a bit tipsy. How about that one, there?"

"Grindelow."

"Slytherin emblem."

"I don't think so. What do you think of that one?"

"Snape sneezing."

She doubled up, holding her side. "Oh, wow. Yes, I can see that. Right there is his nose. His hair is a bit off. Clouds can't be greasy."

"You're a riot," he informed.

She glimpsed at her watch's face. "We need to go. That report is waiting for me."

He stood, and helped her up by the elbow. "Are you okay?"

"I still feel awful for Bonnie... But I'm better. Thanks to you."

He smiled warmly, then reached over pulling his suitcase to them. "I cooked us fettuccini for lunch today," he opened it to reveal tupperware bowls, butterbeer, cloth napkins, and silverware.

* * *

Hermione was giddy when she got home. Draco cheered her up with his kindness, jokes, and amazing cooking. She felt calm, and at peace with her lost case, no matter how much it still saddened her to think of Bonnie. Draco was right, there was nothing else she could do about it.

For dinner she met up with Seamus at a local muggle restaurant, complete with linen tablecloths, and low lighting. She didn't rehash the issue about Bonnie, she had done her crying for the day, and she wanted to have some fun with him, and she did, part of the fun including a short snog session on her front porch. He was a good man, she said it to herself after every date, almost as if she was trying to convince herself, only convincing herself later that it wasn't what she was doing. She liked him, she really did. A kiss didn't have to have this strong feeling behind it not to be meaningful.

She met Lunus at her desk, and began reading the latest letter from her faithful pen pal.

_Hermione,_

_I hope the weather to cool. I was roused this morning in sweat. I miss winter._

_Your Friend_

_My Friend,_

_I'm a person for the fall. The changing colors of the trees, and all. I think it's beautiful._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

She loved the deep, yet almost useless thoughts that they would pass between them. It made her feel closer to this nameless person. She liked that.

_A/N: I know you all are probably getting a bit restless, but I promise you something will happen. I have to let Hermione grow close with the mystery writer, and Draco. I don't feel that it's right that I throw both at her, and be like "here you go, do what you want," though it would be funny. Their relationship is making progress, and it will be soon._

_There was a very good question that FaintScent asked about the houselves clothes. So there will be no further confusion, the reason the houselves aren't set free when Malfoy gives them clothes is because they're no longer slaves. Hermione passed a law before this story took place for it to be illegal to keep them as such. However, there are still houselves that are mistreated, and it's a slow progress, but they are learning that they don't have to serve one family forever if they so choose. I didn't find a place to put it into the story; it didn't seem important at the time. I hope that answers that though._


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

A River's Current

For the next week Draco had brought lunch to the office. If she thought it was a fluke that they got along as well as they had she didn't anymore. One afternoon she held her burning nose to keep the butterbeer from spilling out. Draco handed her a napkin laughing with pride of his own joke.

"Thank you," she said.

There was a sharp knock on her door then, and Draco pointed his wand over his shoulder, opening it. When he glanced behind him it looked as though he had regretted doing so.

"Seamus," Hermione greeted.

Seamus with a red rose in hand stopped short of her desk when he caught sight of Draco. She forgot to tell him about her new assistant, and instantly regretted it. He looked ready to curse him.

"Seamus, you know Mr. Malfoy -"

He cut her attempts at pleasantries off. "What the hell is he doing here, Hermione?"

"He works for me. He's my assistant."

"You hired him!"

"Mr. Kingsley hired him, and I'd appreciate it if you showed some tact."

Seamus glowered, and without taking his eyes off of Draco he handed her the rose. The two men stared each other down before Hermione coughed gaining their attention back to her.

"Sorry," Seamus mumbled. "I was thinking dinner tonight?"

Hermione bit her lip, "can we reschedule? I have a lot of work to be done here..."

He looked over at Draco clearly putting the fault on him. Hermione wanted to say something to defend him, but Seamus with a hint of malice in his voice said, "fine. Owl me when you're not busy working."

"Thanks..."

"Yeah, right." With another glare at his nemesis he grabbed her by the waist, and gave her a deep snog leaving her breathless.

Once the door shut, Draco muttered, "git."

"Excuse me," said Hermione.

"He's a git."

"You think that of every Gryffindor."

"That's not true. I don't think that about you."

Hermione gazed at him for a moment. "Why is that?"

Draco shrugged. "I'll let you know when I figured it out."

She laid the rose on her desk, and turned to the filing cabinet behind her, when she came back with an armful of papers, she saw Draco holding the tip of his wand to the petals. A lively fire started, crumpling them inward, until water poured out, and washed the flames away leaving nothing but a steam.

She slammed the papers on her desk, "that was uncalled for."

"It was childish," he admitted. "But I really hate that bloke. You can do better."

"That's not up to you."

Draco sighed, and gathered up the lunch into his briefcase. He returned to his desk at the other side of the room without another word. Hermione didn't push him, she set reading a new case. Without much thought she approved it.

Hours later, she stretched, reaching her fingers to the ceiling. "Time to go home." She put her quill into its ink bottle.

"No," Draco stated. "I'm taking you out to dinner. You can't cook, and I fear what's in your kitchen, so I'm taking you out."

Hermione wanted to go. It was sweet, and her stomach grumbled in agreement, but it didn't feel right. She had just turned down a date with her own boyfriend. How terrible was it that she go out with her assistant? If Seamus knew it wouldn't matter that he was with his friends at this time, and she couldn't ask him. All that he would see is that she went out to dinner with their enemy on the same night that she was supposed to be out with him. Who knew that being friends with Draco wouldn't set Harry off as much as it did Seamus. She never thought she would date the guy in the first place.

He seemed to sense her dilemma as he slipped on his cloak. "It's not a date, Hermione. You're hungry, I'm hungry, so we'll go together. We're friends, nothing more."

This settled her, and she agreed pulling on her cloak from the back of her chair, and went down the lifts with him to the fireplace. Most of the building was empty by this time, and their footsteps softly echoed in the halls. When they came into the Atrium Draco threw in some floo powder into the grate, and it occurred to her that she didn't know where they were going.

"Where are we eating," she asked.

"Three Broomsticks, I know how much you like that place," he said in all seriousness.

Hermione looked quizzically at him. "No fancy restaurant where dinner costs more than a month's rent?"

"Would you like me to take you to someplace like that?"

"No, I'm surprised is all. The spoiled prince Slytherin prince eating with the destitute."

She swore she saw the corner of his mouth twitch as he responded, "the snotty Gryffindor bookworm with her wit."

They stepped into the hearth, and entered the crowded pub, and in an act to keep from being separated he grabbed her hand from behind him, and she was shocked to feel a slight tingle from it. They hugged, done side-along apparation, and had innocently touched, and there was nothing sensual about him taking her hand then. If that was true then there shouldn't have been that swooping feeling that went through her system.

Like in soccer they weaved in, and out of the throngs his hold on her tight as they were jostled. Once they came to an empty table she snatched her hand back. There was no logical explanation for feeling what she did. he was Draco Malfoy for goodness sakes! _That didn't stop them from being friends_, she thought.

Hermione, and Draco took the only seating available after a family of three left. Draco held out her seat, and then withdrew a cloth that he used to wipe off his own, and the edge of the table. She watched this with interest.

"Germophobic," she raised an inquisitive brow.

"Excuse me?"

"You're afraid of germs."

His gave her his infamous sneer. "I'm not _afraid,_ of germs, Hermione, I simply don't want them."

"We all have them."

"Fine, I don't want someone _else's_ germs."

"Good luck with your future wife."

They ate, and Draco paid, no matter how much Hermione argued with him about this, he insisted, and she was soon learning that Malfoy always got his way. They turned to leave when she gasped, and seized his arm pulling him behind a large plant in the corner of the room.

"Granger -"

"Shhh," she cried.

They hid behind the plant while Seamus, and his friend Dean Thomas, a dark boy with weaves, came nearer to the counter beside them. They were ordering something, laughing at a joke that one of them possibly told while they weren't in ear shot.

Draco dragged Hermione closer by her shoulder, pressing his lips near her ear feeling a tingle when he breathed. "Why are we hiding?"

"That's Seamus!"

"So?"

"I don't think he'd like it if I were here with you."

Draco huffed, and he suddenly stood, and walked away from her towards the two men.

"Draco," she hissed, "come back here! Malfoy!" All she felt she could do was view the interaction from her hiding place, because there was no way that she was coming out to face her boyfriend's wrath. It didn't make sense for her to be that scared of what Seamus might think, but it was still Malfoy she was with, and as much as she couldn't explain his friendship she didn't want to hurt him.

"Fancy meeting you here, Finnigan," Draco drawled.

"What're you doing here, Malfoy? Doesn't Hermione have you working overtime?"

He chuckled softly. "She's a very generous boss," he said in a tone that suggested something else entirely, and Hermione felt her blood boil. How dare he!

Seamus' face burned. "What do you want?"

"I'm curious, how do you feel about her?"

"What's this, a trick question?"

"That is up to you."

Seeing the dangerous look that passed between the two, Dean took this opportunity to step in next to his best friend. "Look, if you have no further relevant business here, I suggest you leave."

"I don't want to."

"I don't give a fuck what you want," Seamus nearly yelled getting the attention of everyone around them.

Draco acted aghast. "Language, Finnigan, there's families here."

Seamus took a step closer. "I don't know why you're her assistant, everyone knows you don't need the money. I'm sure it's just to torture her more than you already have, and I'm warning you if I learn that you've hurt her you have an army to deal with."

"Hurting her isn't my intention. I have something much more pleasing in mind -" Draco staggered backwards landing hard on the grimy floor from Seamus' punch.

Dean hooked his arms with Seamus' holding him back, and Hermione feeling that this had gone far enough jumped out from behind the plant, and knelt by Draco's head. She helped him sit up, and heard Seamus yell more, this time directed at her.

"What in the bloody name of Merlin are you doing here?!"

Hermione stood, and turned to her boyfriend that remained restrained by Dean who looked just as shocked as him, both red in the face. "I was hungry, I decided to go out for a late dinner, and yes, with my friend. Draco's my friend now, and I'm sorry if that disappoints you -"

"Disappoints me? I'm infuriated!"

"Yes, I can see that," she spat.

"How could you do this?"

"I'm not dating him!"

"You can't have forgotten what he's done to you! To us! He's Malfoy!"

"I know that!"

"How could you," he asked again his voice much softer that it almost broke Hermione's heart.

"It doesn't matter how..."

"It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Because I love you!" Dean let him go, and he stumbled holding her arms as he gained his footing. "I don't want you to see him anymore... You can transfer him -"

"I'm not transferring a great assistant because you're insecure."

"I'm not insecure!"

Hermione huffed angrily, and took Draco's arm, leaving with him in tow. "Owl me when you're sane Seamus," she yelled back before the door slammed.

She didn't stop walking. She kept going down the road, her breath ragged, dragging along Draco who kept asking her to stop. She couldn't stop, not until she was far enough away to round on him. She had never felt more humiliated in her whole life. All that happened in a pub she frequented, she couldn't show up there again.

"Hermione, for Merlin's pants slow down!"

Hermione stopped outside of a closed Madam Malkin's, and spun around. He ran into her front, and gripped her arms to keep them from tumbling, and once they straightened she shoved him off. "How dare you," she panted slicing her hand through the air to illustrate her anger, "you had no right to do that! That was none of your business! How could you go up to him, and make it sound... Make it sound like we were... An item... That you were interested in me?! Not only was it a lie, it was uncalled for, it was over the line!"

Draco held her shoulders firmly lowering her head to hers, his hair brushing against her forehead. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that, but none of it was a lie."

"We're not a couple."

"No, but my interest in you is true. I'm very interested."

Hermione pushed him off. "You're a liar."

"Get it through to your thick head," he bellowed, "I'm not a liar. I'm spoiled, conceited, everything you think of me is true, but that! I'm not a liar."

She didn't believe him. "Okay, Mr. Candor, when did you become interested in me?"

"The recent ball at Hogwarts. You were so beautiful."

This took her off guard, but she shook it off. "That's only attraction."

"No, it wasn't, because I still find you beautiful, even in your current pissed off state."

Beautiful? She felt her heart leap out of her chest. Malfoy liked her... This was some dream, none of it happened, she would wake, and go to work. She closed her eyes, and opened them again, but Draco stood in front of her. "I have a boyfriend," she whispered, not sure if he heard, or if the slight wind carried it away.

"That can be remedied."

"I like him."

"You don't love him."

"That doesn't mean I won't one day."

"No, it just means you don't now, and how do you feel about me?"

How did she feel about him? She was attracted to him, there was no doubt about that. She loved his fairytale blonde hair, and how the fringe dipped into his stormy eyes. She loved how he was lean, yet muscular, and how he made her laugh. His intellect was astounding. She felt the pressure of a headache build up, her heart hammering in her rib cage. "I don't want to have this conversation."

"A little late for that."

"I'm leaving."

"I want to talk about this."

"See you at work tomorrow, Draco." She apparated in her bedroom. The look on his face was hurt. She didn't know she would see that in him. Ever. She hurt him, and this time not physically... She went to her bed, and fell on it drained from the confusion that drove like a river current in her, and the pain in her back that was dying to be soothed. She didn't see Lunus waiting for her until morning when she woke.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Sick

_Hermione,_

_I think I'm ready to tell my friend how I feel about her. It's time. I'm afraid if I don't do it soon then I never will, and I'll lose her. I feel that I lost her once before, and I can't handle if I let that happen again. Please, wish me luck, she's a strong woman, stubborn even, and I'm greatly afraid of rejection by her. Funny, how she can evoke such fear in me._

_Your Friend_

Hermione sadly smiled. One girl was going to be very lucky. She wasn't sure why she was sad though. Maybe because it wasn't her her mystery writer was referring to? She shouldn't be liking him like this. It didn't make any sense...

She went outside, and picked up a carnation out of the flower bed outside of her house. It would have been easy to accio it up, but she lived in a muggle neighborhood, and it would look odd for a flower to magically be floating up to her house. She went back to her desk, and changed it into a lovely white Camellia.

_Friend,_

_I'm sending you the best of luck in here. The Camellia is a form of good luck for a man, but I don't think you need it. If she rejects you then it is her loss, you're a great man, keep that in mind._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

She tied the flower, and the envelope to Lunus' leg once he was done eating the treats at his feet. She sent him off, and began dressing for work in a simple brown suit, her hair up in its usual bun. She carried her briefcase to the fireplace, and went to work.

In her office she saw Draco sitting on her desk with a familiar flower twirling it between his fingers like he would a wand. She sighed heavily, and said, "Draco, get off my desk. Why aren't you working?" She thought he would give her one of his annoying smirks, or anything but look at her the same way he did last night when she left.

"We need to talk."

"Lets forget last night, okay? We have a lot of work to do..." She sat at her desk, and saw the flower drop in front of her.

Now she knew why it was familiar, it was the same flower, the Camellia that she sent to her pen pal. It had to be coincidence. "Get on with it, what's this about?"

Draco leapt off her desk, and twisted her chair sounding a loud scrap of wood on tile towards him. "Do you really not know?"

She shook her head, almost scared under his intense gaze. She felt like she was under a microscope, all of her being examined. She wanted something to cover her, even if her suit was modest it wasn't enough.

"Writing you was only hope that someone, the very person that shouldn't, may be able to forgive me."

Her eyes widened with understanding at the sentence she read from her confidante. It was _him._ Draco Malfoy was her pen pal. She felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to leave, and she went to stand only to be roughly pushed back. She opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted before she had a chance to begin.

"You forgave me..." The words were sweet on him, handled with care on his tongue like it was the most precious thing she could have done. "Hermione, the only reason I wrote you was for your forgiveness. There was no ulterior motive. My mother is dying slowly, and made me promise to right my wrongs. She never agreed with my dad, she feared him, and feared what he was capable of. The first person, and only person I wanted to apologize to was you. I should have stopped what happened at my house. Should have done something to help you, but I couldn't because I was selfish, and was only thinking of what would happen to _me_ if I did. I'm sorry, I'm so deeply sorry. I never meant to feel this way towards you. One day I would've told you who I was, but when I saw you at the ball I knew I had to see you again, so I took on this job. I needed to be by you, to make you forgive me in person."

Hermione's mouth had gone dry, and she felt sicker. All that time, all the things she told him... She never wanted to really believe it was Malfoy, so she treated the situation as though he wasn't him. He was her confidante, her friend, the person she looked so forward to writing to every night, and it had been _Malfoy!_ She jumped out of her seat pushing him back. He staggered in a couple of his steps, but soon was standing straighter, challenging her. With a shaky finger she pointed towards the door, "get out."

Draco was appalled; he glared at her. "You told me you forgave me! You're going to take that back? I never knew what a hypocrite you were!"

"You never knew me to begin with!"

"I know you now!"

She shook her head, and it made her feel nauseas, "get out, Malfoy!"

"Why, tell me why!"

"You lied to me," she cried. "This entire time you've lied to me. What is it that you want from me?"

"You! I want you!"

"You're crazy."

"Damn it, Hermione, you have no idea what you've been doing to me, you're killing me."

"Humor me!"

"I'm in love with you! In those letters we weren't enemies, we were friends, we confided in each other, and I found that you are different from me, but not in the sense that I'm above you. I was wrong my whole life, you in fact are pure, I'm tainted with the things I've done in my life, the way I've felt, and how I've treated others. I'm sorry, I _need_ your forgiveness, Hermione."

She felt the tears. "You don't love me, you don't even know me."

"Thirty-eight letters, Hermione! There's been thirty-eight of them, I think I know you. I know your favorite color is blue, your middle name is Jean, after your mother. You have the most gorgeous brown eyes, you're smart, and love books. You have this wonderful look on your face when you read. You've taken eight years of flute lessons. You have a mean right hook. You have a fire of passion in you to heat the coldest place in any man's heart. I can go on forever, so does that small amount of information satisfy you?"

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing this to you," he repeated incredulously. "It was one apology letter. I didn't expect you to write back, but you did. I didn't mean to fall in love with you, but it happened! Why did you write back?"

Her head pounded more furiously. "I don't know anymore."

"I think you do. You want to help people, it's an irrepressible need with you, but you love me too. I know you do."

"Stop it," she meant to say stop spinning, but was unable to finish.

"I'm not going away!"

"Please... Don't do this."

"Don't love you? Too late for that. I swear to you that it wasn't intended, I can't help this... Tell me you forgive me, I want to hear it from your lips."

She sobbed, her body aching. "No..."

"Why in the bloody hell not," he yelled.

"I... Can't." She felt dizzy, and tired. She felt herself shaking, her heart beating beyond its average rate, that headache, the back pain. She was worse than tired, she was drained. She was losing it. It was all too much. Draco was blurred, and she grasped the desk for support.

"Hermione? Are you okay?"

She heard him, but it sounded distant. Her hand fell from the desk, and she felt herself falling. She was too far gone to feel Draco's arms around her holding her upright. She was hanging limp, no energy left to keep her awake.

"Hermione? Hermione?! Help, someone help!"


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

A Friend

Bright lights, the scent of antiseptic, white walls. Hermione woke up in St. Mungo's, the wizard hospital. An elderly lady in lime green robes stood over her with a clipboard making quick marks on it with a withered hand. She glanced down with sky blue eyes, and raised her brows happily. Hermione was annoyed to see the woman wearing her white hair in a bun very similar to her own.

"Awake, I see. That's great. How're you feeling?"

"Tired..." Hermione tried to remember what happened to her, but it was in vain. Her mind simply refused to focus on it. She was talking to Draco... He said he loved her. Was that even possible? "What happened?"

"You've been under too much stress. Now, the Minister is outside wanting to see you. Shall I bring him in?"

"Yes, please."

Mr. Kingsley squeezed through the doorway, smiling as he saw her. "You're awake, good." He brought up a chair next to her bedside. "Ms. Granger, do you want to know why you're here?"

She nodded.

"Stress. You've been under way too much pressure. I'm now forcing you to take a vacation. A long one. I don't want you to come back to work for another month."

Hermione shot up, and he put a hand on her shoulder pushing her gently back onto the pillows.

"I can't take off that long! I have a lot of things to do!"

"Please, Ms. Granger, calm down or I'll be kicked out."

Reluctantly she fell back. "Sorry, sir."

"The cases will go to someone else, and I just want you to relax. I already have someone who's going to watch after you."

"I'm not a child, I don't need anyone to supervise me."

Mr. Kingsley chuckled, "I know that, but I also happen to know how stubborn you are. Humor me, okay?"

"Okay... Who's going to look after me? Everyone's busy."

"Not your assistant."

"Draco?" Hermione took a shuddering breath. "Did he agree to this?"

"It was his idea."

At that moment Draco walked in with a particular smug look. He held up a suitcase for her to see, and stood beside her. "Thanks, Mr. Kingsley, I'll see her from here."

Her boss nodded, shook their hands, and left. Hermione turned, and glared at Draco. "What's this about you staying with me?"

"Don't get your knickers in a knot, Hermione. You're here because of stress, and I'll be seeing to it that you won't be put under any more."

She huffed, and rolled her eyes. "I'm an adult, I can take care of myself."

He scanned her, and the bed she was in. "Obviously."

"I don't think this is such a good idea."

"Why is that?"

"Seamus," she said shortly as if that explained it all.

"Yeah, about that, you won't be seeing him for a while. After that little display in the pub I don't think he's going to be helping that stress of yours."

Hermione's voice raised considerably, "the only one that's causing me stress here is you, Malfoy!"

He seemed a little hurt by her statement, but shrugged it off. "We can talk about it later. We're going home." He held out his arm for her to take, and after one last glare she did.

Her legs were a bit wobbly, much like a new fawn taking its first steps, and she expected him to laugh, but he didn't. He turned his back away while she got dressed, but she suspected that he was taking peeks. She was tired, she wanted to get in her own bed, and she didn't care if he watched.

She straightened her collar on her blouse, and turned taking his elbow. Without warning she apparated them to her home. She didn't look back when she walked down the sidewalk between the rows of Carnations. She couldn't help when she reached the door to take a glimpse at him.

Draco stood as though he hadn't moved. His looked along the rows of flowers, up to the white brick house, and smiled as though it was the greatest thing he had ever laid eyes on. "Lovely."

"You've lived in a mansion all your life, and you think this is lovely?"

"It took me five minutes to go from my bedroom to the front door. I much prefer this."

Hermione opened the door. "Are you coming, or not?"

They went inside, Draco checking out everything as much as he could while following her up the stairs. "Where's my room? Do we get share?"

She snorted in disgust, and pointed to a room down the hall. "That'll be yours. There's a bathroom off of it."

"You know, Granger, you could be a bit more grateful. I am taking my time to help you out."

She felt her cheeks burn red. "You don't have to. Go on, and go home. I don't need you here." She strolled into her room, the door shutting behind her. She wasn't sure why she was feeling so angry at him. No, that wasn't true, she knew why. He lied. He got her forgiveness, why push her so far to have to actually hear it, to take a job to ease his guilty conscious. It was almost selfish.

Hermione plopped down on her bed, closing her eyes, and hoping for the day to disappear. If she was lucky the whole thing would be a nightmare, and she would go into work tomorrow, win a case, take on a few more, and come home satisfied. She would wake up, and realize she had never met Draco Malfoy.

Instead Malfoy plagued her dreams. He was standing in the corner of the manor looking at her in horror while Bellatrix yelled crucio. Flesh was being burned off her bones, she cried, and screamed, and tried to reach Ron. She heard him yelling, and it was the only sound she took comfort in. He was still alive, and he wouldn't leave without her. She would be safe, but the pain kept coming, and Malfoy didn't go away. Bellatrix's taunts, and maniac laughter echoed in her ears.

"Hermione..."

Another voice. It wasn't Ron's...

"Hermione... Wake up..."

Hermione's eyes shot open, and she sat straight in her bed. Her bed... She was at home. Sweat covered her face in thick layers, her throat sore, and tight, eyes wet, and leaking tears. She gulped, and gripped the blankets that pooled around her waist.

"How often?"

She looked over at the owner of the voice that called her out of her dreams. On his knees beside her bed Draco gazed at her, his eyes shining from the moonlight that poured through her window. His hands reached for hers, and gripped it tightly. "Whenever I think about it too much..."

"Am I in it?"

"Yes... I remember your face clearly." Hermione watched as a tear fell from the corner of his eye. She swiped her thumb over it, wiping it away.

"I'm so sorry... I'm so very sorry, Hermione." He touched the bright white scar on her neck where his aunt had cut her with the knife that night. He let his hand drop, and he put his forehead to her hand, and wept.

She ran hers over his baby soft hair, her angry ebbed away at his distress. "I know."

"I'm sorry that you're still haunted. I am too... Forgive me... Please forgive me... For real this time, not in a cowardly letter, but right here, right now."

"I forgive you." Hermione didn't know why she thought of it, or why she asked. It came out of her mouth before she could stop it. "Will you do me a favor then? Stay with me for the night. As a friend."

He looked up hopefully. "A friend?"

"Please?"

"For you, I'd do anything." He climbed over her, and laid on top of the blankets. She noticed that he was wearing black boxers, and a thin black shirt. His arm wrapped around her waist as if they'd done it a million times. He buried his face in her hair, and breathed contentedly.

Hermione rested a hand on his, their fingers linking. It should have felt too close. Having Malfoy in her house should have been over the line, but it felt oddly natural. She couldn't pull away from his hold, and she found that she didn't want to. She needed someone for the night, and if that person was Malfoy, so be it.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Company

A dark scent filled her nostrils... The feel of someone warm. Blearily she looked up from a chest to Draco's face. He was sound asleep, his mouth slightly parted, deep even breaths emitting from it. He was adorable in the morning. As quiet as she could she traced his jaw line with her forefinger feeling the slight stubble. She had the sudden urge to kiss him. It irked her, and she slipped out of his arm.

She padded down to the kitchen. She pressed the red button on the coffee machine, and opened a window above the sink, a tawny owl flying in with the Daily Prophet clutched in his beak. She put a few knuts she left in a small bowl above the fridge in the satchel tied to his leg, and he was off. She unfolded it, and sat in one of the chairs, and began reading.

At that very moment the fireplace came to life, and Ginny Weasley, still in purple nightwear came running in. Hermione was so startled by this, that she let the paper be snatched out of her grasp. Holding it tightly, Ginny fell into a chair, wheezing.

"Is something the matter," Hermione asked in a bored tone.

"Don't - Read - This." She flourished the paper. "Under - Stress."

She rolled her eyes. "Give me the paper, Ginny. I'm okay. I've taken a month off work."

"No, you were made to take off work, and I know. Kingsley told Harry who told me."

"Everyone knows." It wasn't a question, and Ginny knew that. Word spread like wildfire within the family.

"I'd better get going, practice starts in thirty minutes."

"Give me the paper."

"No," Ginny stood, and went on her way out, before Hermione blocked her way.

"Give me that paper." Hermione went to grab at it, but Ginny was the best Chaser in the world, and she lived up to it. She hid the paper behind her back, and ducked under her arm towards the fireplace.

She spun around stamping her foot much like a child. "Ginerva Molly Potter, give me that paper now!"

"What's all this about?" Draco rubbed his tired eyes as he came down the staircase. "Girls are so noisy in the morning."

Ginny ran towards him shoving the Dailey Prophet in his chest. "Page thirty-two," she informed.

Draco flipped the pages, and his eyes widened, and he threw it back at her. "Go to work, Weaslette, I'll handle this."

Ginny did as he said, and exited to the fireplace gone in a flash of green blazes.

Hermione rounded on Draco. "Well?" She placed her hands on her hips indignantly. "Aren't you going to tell me?"

"What're you going on about?"

"Don't be thick. What was in that paper?"

"Nothing," he sauntered past her to the kitchen where he picked up the freshly brewed coffee, and began pouring it into two mugs.

"That wasn't nothing. I demand to know what's going on!"

He sat at the table as though he didn't hear her. "Too damn bad, we don't get what we all want."

"You do!"

"Ah, but see, I'm rich, and handsome, and although you're rich, and pretty, I'm more-so, so your demands are over-ruled."

"That's ludicrous."

"That's life, dear."

She frowned. "Don't call me dear, sounds like we're married."

"Whatever you say, love."

She slammed her hands on the table. "Tell me!"

"Easy, easy, you just got out of St. Mungo's, don't make me take you back there. Drink your coffee."

"Then tell me!"

Inquisitively he stared at her, before motioning for her to sit down. He sighed, and leaned over taking her hands looking quite solemn. "Don't get worked up over this. There was nothing you could've done..."

Her heart thumped harder, painfully. "What happened?"

"Bonnie was killed. The paper gave a lot of details..."

"I want to know -"

"No, you don't. It was gruesome."

Hermione wrapped the thought in her head. Bonnie was dead. She was right, about everything. She knew she would be, but it didn't ease the aching she felt for that poor elf. She covered a hand over her mouth, and started crying.

Draco pulled his chair closer next to hers, and held her, letting her soak his shoulder. "There was nothing you could've done," he assured her, his voice muffled by her mane. "You did everything... That family is going to Azkaban. It's over now." He stroked her back, her waist to her neck.

Neither of them heard the door open. Neither of them looked up. Until -

"What the hell is this?"

Hermione jerked herself out of Draco's hold, and looked through the kitchen archway to see Seamus standing there, and indicting them with a cruel look. Awkwardly she stood keeping a firm hold on her chair. She didn't know where to start, her mouth agape like a fish, she snapped it closed, and shrugged. Hastily she wiped the wet streaks on her cheeks.

Draco stood, his mouth forced into a thin line as though he was doing everything in his power from smirking. "If you kept up with your girlfriend, Finnigan, you would know that she was put in St. Mungo's. Too much stress."

Seamus glared at her. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

"I haven't had the time, I got home yesterday..."

"Doesn't answer why he's here... Snogging you."

She protested, "we weren't snogging! I just heard some bad news about a case of mine, and he was comforting me."

"So I see."

"Don't be that way, Seamus. It's not what it looks like."

"What's he doing here then," he said 'he' as though it were the foulest curse word.

"Kingsley is having him look after me."

"Why him? I can do that."

Draco laughed. "You have a job, don't you? You can't stay here twenty-four-seven, and look after her."

"I'll take a couple of days off -"

"A month. She's off for a month, but thanks for that offer, now, I think you're putting her under enough turmoil, I suggest you leave." Draco stepped forward to usher him out, but Seamus wand was under his chin in a matter of seconds.

"Watch it, Malfoy," he warned. "Don't cross me..."

The corner of Draco's mouth curled up into a devious half-smile. "I don't think you know who you're threatening, Finnigan."

"I think I know. A deatheater -"

"An ex-deatheater."

"The only reason you're alive is because of Potter, if he didn't save your arse _twice_ -" In a flash of light Seamus flew across the lounge and into the fireplace, his wand to the couch. He groaned loudly, but didn't move.

None of them saw Draco draw his wand, or heard him mutter a hex. He was quick, like the Seeker that he was in school, but what little did people know was that he was a master at silent spells.

"Draco!" Hermione softly scolded.

He didn't seem to be listening however. He went over to Seamus, and pulled him up by his collar. "No one needs to remind me of my debt to Potter, least of all you. It's a debt to him, not to you, and apparently he's not a great teacher if he didn't teach you silent spells. I suggest you leave us alone, and when a month's up I'll let you see Hermione -"

"Don't call her by her name, you don't have that right -"

Draco threw him down. "Don't tell me what rights I have. Leave, before I hex you back to the war."

Seamus got clumsily to his feet. He brushed off the soot from his trousers, and nodded at Hermione. "Owl me in a month." He stood properly in the fireplace, and like Ginny, went up in emerald fire.

Hermione marched up to Draco, and pushed him on the couch. She wanted to say something to him. Hex him, curse him, something, but she took her wrath out on the stairs, stomping up them, and closing the door to her room with a crash. She didn't leave for the rest of the day, not even to go down, and eat, and no matter how many times Draco knocked on her door, and begged her to come out. She didn't.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Night Flight

Hermione wished she could mail her pen pal. She wanted someone to make her feel better, something to look forward to when she came home, someone to vent to, and she knew she could do that with him. The unfortunate thing was that guy happened to be Draco, and he was in her house. It wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't such a prat. He kept leading poor Seamus to believe that they were something more than what they were. What were they?

At one point Hermione believed him to be a friend, but after that morning she wasn't sure. She wanted him to be a friend, and if she searched hard enough she would find that she wanted him to be much more than that. She wasn't ready to admit it. Not yet. Not ever. He could act charming all he wanted, he could pretend he changed, but at the end of the day he was still Malfoy.

The problem was he did change. If he was the same Malfoy she knew, he wouldn't have took her to St. Mungo's. He would have poisoned her with all those luncheons, much less even have lunch with her, or ask for the job as her assistant, especially when no such position was available. All of that to get her to forgive him? Was there something more sinister she wasn't aware of?

Hermione sat at her desk that night going through each letter he had sent to her. She didn't know why she was torturing herself with them. She tried to imagine Draco sitting at his own desk, in a huge room decked with green, and silver, writing letters to her. It was too bizarre.

Just as she stood deciding to get dressed for the night there was a loud tapping on her window. Not the kind that an owl would make, but a really loud, annoying tapping. Outside, in the dark, she saw a figure of a man on a broomstick. She felt for her wand, and carefully peered through. The man had blond hair, and a stupid smirking face.

"What are you doing," she asked when she opened the window.

"The best way to relieve stress is to fly. Come aboard."

Her voice shook, "no. I don't fly. You know that."

There was laughter in his, "you're a witch, Granger."

A witch... She grinned. Malfoy never called her a witch before. She was always a mudblood, someone not worthy of such a title. Maybe it was that reason that she took his outstretched hand, and climbed on the broom behind him. She held onto his waist like a lifeline feeling the hard muscles of his stomach beneath her fingers. One look at the hard ground below her she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"Don't be afraid of falling. I'll catch you if you do. Do you trust me?"

She hesitated, but nodded.

"Say it, Hermione. Say you trust me."

"I trust you."

"Then hold on," he dipped the handle low, and they rocketed towards the ground. Hermione gave a strangled scream as they came closer, and closer, she shut her eyes ready for the sound of splintering wood, and the feel of bones snapping.

"Pull up! Please!" They were going to crash, she knew it. "Draco!"

In a short jerk they pulled up a foot from the floor. He laughed, she cried. Draco did a few loops, and they tipped upwards to the sky. She swore that she was going to slip, and fall, she squeezed her legs on the handle. The wind brushed her hair from her face, drying her tears. They slowed to a stop, but she didn't open her eyes. She felt Draco caressing her fingers, keeping her hands with his. His breath sweeping over her cheeks.

"Open your eyes."

"No," she croaked.

"Hermione, please, open your eyes." He sounded pleading. That wasn't like him.

She cracked one open, and saw darkness. She opened both, and saw fluffy dark clouds, it swirled around them, wetting their clothes, chilling them. Light from the crescent moon was casting shadows around them. It was like a vivid dream. "Beautiful," she breathed. She risked a small chance at slipping, and falling, and swept her hand beside them feeling a fog-like moisture cling to her. Quickly she brought her arm back around Draco.

"I know. I love the night as well. You feel open to be yourself without fear of judgment. At night it's okay to tell how you're feeling."

"How do you feel, Draco?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"Like kissing you." He looked at her questioningly, gauging her reaction.

She shook her head no.

"Then I guess I'll have to try harder. How do you feel, Hermione?"

"Like kissing you."

He laughed, "ironic, you're the one who won't snog me."

"Who said anything about snogging?" She leaned forward a tad, and pecked her lips to his cheek.

"Don't get too fresh there, I may swoon off my broom, and how will you explain how you killed off your assistant to your boss?"

She chuckled, but didn't answer. "Thank you for this."

"No, thank you. You trusted me. Above the dark clouds, and stars it's the best gift you can give someone."

"Not above forgiveness."

"And friendship."

"And love."

He looked into her chocolate eyes. "Do you love me, Hermione?"

She tensed. She didn't know what to feel. Seamus was a wonderful man; she was lucky to be with him. Draco was... Her stomach dropped at the thought of them together. He was wrong, not everything could be said at night. "Take me home, Draco. I'm cold."

They didn't say more. She closed her eyes as he dipped low, bringing her up to her window again. He helped her back into the window. Normally she couldn't have been happier to have her feet on the floor, but she began to miss having a reason to hold Draco like she was. It was worth facing her fear to feel him. She gave him a small smile that he gave back, and she latched her windows. She hoped that none of the neighbors saw, but Draco wasn't one to get caught. He thought it out, she knew he did. All of that was for her.

She threw off her clothing, and pulled on her dressing gown. She decided to write her pen pal.

_My Dear Friend,_

_Tonight a handsome man flew up to my window, and took me into the clouds. I can not begin to describe the amazing feeling to face my fear of flying, and trusting someone that was once an enemy, and see something so beautiful come out of it._

_I have a new fear now. I'm afraid that I'm falling for this man. One day, maybe, I'll tell him personally. For right now, this is as close as I can get._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

She folded it into an envelope, and crept through her hallway. At the end she slid the letter under the crack of Draco's door hearing muffled cries within. Crouched on the floor she pushed her ear against the door. It echoed like waves in a seashell, and she couldn't make it out. She opened it a fracture peeking her head in.

"No! Stop! Let them go! NO!"

Hermione was tempted to go back to her room, and forget that she heard anything. He might be humiliated if he knew she heard his nightmares, but he heard hers... She couldn't walk away. He didn't leave her, and she wouldn't leave him.

On tiptoe she sneaked in the crisply decorated room over to the other side of the large bed, slinking in beside him. She placed a quivering hand on his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. His cries stifled, and soon there were none. A good hour later she left certain that his memories were at bay for the night, and so was hers.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Gryffindor Intervention

Something soft, and delicate tickled Hermione's nose in the morning. She swiped at it, but it didn't go away. Sweetly it ran over her cheek. She touched the spot expecting to feel whatever it was, but all she felt was herself. She opened her eyes, and saw a white carnation brushing down the length of her nose. Then someone pale kissed the tip.

"Morning," Draco greeted from beside her, fully dressed in jeans, and a shirt.

She stretched, and yawned. "Morning." She took the flower from the tips of his slender fingers. "How sweet."

"Don't ruin my reputation, now."

"It'll be a secret between us."

"In return can I have a secret from you?"

She thought for a moment, and admitted, "I'm not a morning person."

"Could've fooled me."

"That's why it's a secret," she whispered this to prove her point.

Draco poked her side, and climbed out of the bed. "Get dressed. We're going out for breakfast." He shut the door allowing her privacy.

Hermione laid the flower on her desk, and quickly went through her wardrobe dressing in a green, and white plaid skirt with a matching button blouse. She thought Draco might appreciate that since it was his old house colors. As a Gryffindor she should have been ashamed, but she simply blushed, and forced a brush through her hair, though it did little good to tame it, and left it down. After seeing the aged Healer wearing her hair the same way, Hermione couldn't bring herself to wear it like that again.

When she reached for her watch on the desk she saw an envelope with green writing on the front spelling her name. She hadn't seen that before…

_Hermione,_

_This man is very lucky, much like me. Last night I took this gorgeous woman out of her window, and introduced her to a place she's never been before. The look on her face, full of wonder I'll never forget, it's permanently stamped into my mind. I've already fallen for this girl, and I never want to stop falling. One day, I'll tell her properly, but only on the day she tells me. I have to know that she feels the same. The right to hurt me lies solely with her, but it doesn't mean that I want to feel the pain she can inflict. It would surely destroy me. For now, I'm perfectly content with watching her._

_Your Friend, Draco_

Quickly she took out a fresh piece of parchment, and dipped her quill into its bottle of ink.

_Draco,_

_One day... It'll come._

_Your Friend, Hermione_

In curves, and swirls she wrote her name in red on the front of the envelope. She tossed it under his bedroom door at the end of the hall, and went on her way to the lounge. She stopped at the foot of the stairs seeing Harry, Ginny, and Seamus on the couch, all three of them dressed for work, though Ginny looked like she was ready to play, even her safety equipment was on, the goggles on top of her fiery hair. Draco was standing in the kitchen doorway leaning against the frame. No one was speaking, they looked dead serious.

"Why aren't you all at work?"

Harry stood. "Did Malfoy curse Seamus?"

"Yes, something I didn't approve of." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Anything more?"

"You don't seem very upset about this, Hermione."

"Seamus is a strong, capable wizard; he can take care of his own." Out of the corner of her eye she had never seen Draco smile wider as if his child played the greatest, meanest trick there ever was.

"You're still letting him live here," Seamus accused.

"No one else can take off work for a month!"

Ginny checked her watch, foot shaking. "Harry, can we get a move on with this? I have to be at the pitch in ten minutes!"

Harry glimpsed at her. "Go on then."

She didn't need further persuasion, she hugged Hermione, and whispered in her ear. "Don't let the boys get to you." She left through the fireplace.

Hermione never felt more uncomfortable with any of them than she had at that moment. They were all adults, they should just assume that each of them could handle themselves. She saw their concern. She had received her apologizes from Draco, but they hadn't. They didn't know anything about it, as far as they knew he was just an assistant that strangely became a friend. It didn't make sense to them. She didn't care. It wasn't their business.

Harry stepped in front of her grasping her arms firmly matching his low tone. "If you continue whatever it is you have with Malfoy, you may lose Seamus. I'm not telling you what to do, I'm telling you what will happen. Malfoy has been a prat for as long as we've known him. Seamus has been a good friend."

"What is this, an intervention? Sounds like you're telling me what to do."

"I'm telling you _facts_."

Hermione bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Let me talk with them, you go to work. I'll meet up with you later."

"Dinner, my place, okay?"

She nodded, and watched as he disappeared in the inferno. One less person to worry about, but now she had to make her decision. _It's not fair,_ she thought. She shouldn't have to choose between them. Except... She did. She liked Seamus, but she was starting to love Malfoy. How did everything end up so confusing, and complicated? A drawer full of letters, and she was letting go one of the greatest men that fought beside her in the war, a guy who was beginning to love her. She was letting him go for an ex-deatheater. She was near tears.

Draco, and Seamus both moved to comfort her, but Seamus got there first, and she let herself be taken into his arms. She couldn't relax in his hold, and soon pushed him back.

"I'll find someone to take my place at Gringotts. I'll stay here with you, and Malfoy can leave."

Did he think that was the problem? Malfoy was a last resort? "Seamus -"

"I can take the extra bedroom, I can start tonight."

"Seamus," she said again, but he didn't seem to want to hear her.

"I'll be back with some of my things -"

"Honestly, Seamus, listen to me! I'm sorry -"

"Don't say that."

"What would you prefer I'd say?"

"That you love me, that you want me to stay, that Malfoy is the biggest git you've ever laid eyes on."

She couldn't help herself, she had to crack a smile, but it was sad. "I love you as a friend, and I want it to stay that way, and Malfoy certainly used to be a git."

Seamus looked over at him as if expecting him to argue.

Draco simply shrugged, and said, "no argument. I still am."

Hermione took Seamus' hand. "I am sorry..."

"I am too." He faced Draco, not letting go of her hand. "You saw Voldemort die?"

"Of course."

"You'll suffer a worse death than him if you ever hurt her. I'll make sure of it."

Draco sneered. "You'd me the least of my worries, Finnigan. If anyone's going to kill me it'll be Potter, or the Weasel."

"Spoken true for a Slytherin."

"We're sneaky, not liars."

"Whatever, Malfoy." Seamus bent, and kissed Hermione's cheek, his lips lingering there for a solid three seconds, before leaning to look into her eyes. "Owl me if you need me." He stepped into the grate, and disappeared.

Draco grunted, "still a git."

Hermione glared, and he raised his brows as if to question her sanity to disagree. She didn't, but that didn't mean she wasn't thinking it. She simply didn't want another fight. She had just broken up with this amazing guy. A Gryffindor true to his title, handsome, and polite. It was the right thing to do, but it hurt. She wasn't hungry anymore. She wanted to be alone.

Without saying anything more she retreated back to her room. Once she closed the door there was a soft knock. She didn't answer. She sat on the edge of her bed, and listened to Draco through the door.

"It's not good not to eat. Come on out, the offer for breakfast is still good."

When she didn't respond he continued.

"You know, I didn't ask you to break up with him. That was your decision."

"Go away," she finally said.

"Are you going to ignore me for a month? Come out."

"Go away," she reiterated.

There was a loud bang that sounded as if his fist collided with the wood. "Granger! Get out here, now!" Another bang. "Fine! Stay in there! Starve! See if I care."

Hermione rolled herself into a ball, and wept on her bed. How did she end up there?

* * *

Hermione had been asleep for hours before there was another knock on her door. Tiredly she sat up, and her door opened. Draco walked in with a plate of small sandwiches, and a coke. He sat it on her desk, and left without so much as a glance in her direction.

She fell into her desk chair, and ate, biting into the silces of bread, peanut butter, and jelly filling her mouth. She felt oddly calm. Her nap had waned any angry she had against him earlier.

Afterward her late supper she went into her bathroom, washed her faced, and strolled out into the hallway to find Draco. She knocked on his door, and he answered, his face showing no expression. It was a little awkward, like staring into a stone statue expecting to make conversation with it.

"Thanks."

No response. Not even a blink.

"I thought you didn't care if I starved?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "If you starved the blame would be put on me. Even if I made it past your hero friends I'm not fond of Azkaban."

Hermione didn't think it through. She just did as she felt watching how his hair fell over his forehead, his soft lips, the muscles in his arms, and what she did happened to be the most freeing thing she had done in her life. She threw her arms around Draco's neck. He stood rigid as if unsure of what to do. She kissed his lips, fireworks exploding in her mind, breaking his spell. He enfolded her waist pressing her against him roughly, making her lose her breath for a second. His tongue slipped past her lips, and across her own. It was delicious.

He moaned in her mouth, and she gripped him tighter as he lifted her her legs. Hands beneath her knees, he carried her over to the guest bed falling on top of her. She felt his hardness against her hip, and she arched her hips to his causing him to moan louder. She found the end of his shirt, and attempted to pull it up when he snatched her wrists holding them against the mattress. He removed his lips from hers staring intently down at her.

"I want you to say it."

She was in a fog. How could he talk to her in that moment while his touch was setting her on fire? "Say what?"

"Tell me you love me."

She smiled. "I love you." She meant it.

His hands slid up her arms, to her neck, to the back of her head, his fingers tangling themselves in her hair. "I love you, too," his voice was husky, deeper than normal. "Fuck, I need you."

She pulled off his shirt, throwing it to the ground. He bent to suck on her neck, she moved her head to give him easier access, and she caught sight of his left forearm. The dark mark was clear, and visible against his pale skin. She found her fingers were moving across it thoughtfully, unable to focus on the ministrations Draco was performing on her neck, and he noticed this quickly.

He lifted up seeing where she was staring. Taking her chin he forced her attention back on him. "I'd get rid of it if I could, but there's no spell. A concealment charm won't even work."

She bit her lip, nodding. She already knew that, but she wasn't about to go through a speech about each book that it was written in.

His finger trace the supple scar on her neck. "We all have scars, Hermione, and they each represent something. Yours says that you're brave, and resilient. Mine says that I made the greatest mistake someone could make."

Hermione searched his eyes. They were light, yet stormy. Sad, and longing, but there was lust. It was in her eyes too, she knew. "What're you waiting for?"

He gently tugged on her hair, her mouth opening in surprise, and he took it. He took her. She was his, and she never thought that could be possible, she was no one's, she was an individual, but right then, and there she was his, and he was hers. It wasn't so bad. From then on, they would belong to each other, and even better yet Hermione finally knew what Ginny was talking about when feeling something in a kiss, it caused a rush of delightful emotions. That night, those emotions cascaded over her again, and again, and she thought she would drown in them. She didn't care if she did. She never wanted it to end. It was where she wanted to be, there was no place better, not even in darkened clouds.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Silver Draconis

By the rays of the sun spilling into the room Hermione gathered her clothing from the floor, the sheet covering her body like a toga. She walked out of the room as silently as possible, and to her own room to bathe, and change into fresh attire.

Draco slept, and if she hurried she could have breakfast cooked for him before he woke. She was contemplating what to cook when she exited out of the shower, and saw another letter on her desk. She picked it up wondering when he could have written her. Last night, he must have sneaked out of bed, and dropped it there.

_Hermione,_

_I love you._

_Yours Entirely, Draco_

Hermione felt giddy as she wrote him back.

_Draco,_

_I love you as well._

_Yours Always, Hermione_

She went back to his bedroom, and laid it on the pillow beside him, and left to the kitchen. Three bangers, scrambled eggs, and black pudding was laid out on the table an hour later. Hermione was starting the coffee when she gasped in shock feeling something cold slink around her neck. A chain?

"Shhh," a voice hushed in her ear. "Look down."

She did as she was told, and saw the end of the silver chain was linked to a silver dragon's wings, its tail curled around a sapphire, and a diamond. Their birthstones. She fingered the necklace admiringly.

Draco's breath brushed against the skin of her neck. "Do you like it," he asked.

"I love it..."

Instantly he spun her around stealing her lips with his. He pushed her to the edge of the counter lifting her on top of it. He leaned forward licking the lobe of her ear, and she shivered feeling his hot breath, and the small morning stubble. "You're mine, Hermione."

"Yours," she agreed, a word she never thought she would say about herself, but she poured every bit of conviction she had in that one word, and in response he grabbed her neck pulling her closer, tighter.

She ran her fingertips down his bare shoulder blades. He was fit, probably more so than he was in school playing Quidditch. There was no six pack, but his muscles were defined nicely. "How did you do this," she asked, having to know the answer. "Get this necklace I mean?"

He pulled back, and smirked attempting to be his stuck-up self, but it failed as a light blush crept on his cheeks. "Can't live in the moment, can you? I've had it for a while."

"How long a while?"

"When you told me your fears, that you were afraid of history repeating itself. I knew I was falling for you then… Might already have. I'm not sure when to be honest, but even if you wanted nothing to do with me later on, when you found out who I was, I wanted you to have this to know that if history does repeat itself, I'll be on the right side."

She smiled widely, and kissed him hard on his mouth clinging to his shoulders. There it was again, that fire in the pit of her stomach, her heart fluttering. It heated her.

"By the way," he kissed her neck, "I'm giving you my two week notice," he kissed her collarbone.

She giggled. "Okay." He had already admitted that the only reason he took the job was to be near her, she expected that if he didn't take his leave, she would lay him off. She couldn't be having a relationship with her assistant, it crossed her moral boundaries.

Draco's hands ran up her legs, and gently she pushed him away. "Breakfast," she remembered. "It's getting cold."

He groaned, but complied, and they sat, and ate. The meal didn't go without his bare feet in her lap, his arm swung over the back of the chair. He was rich, and therefore she had made the assumption that he was raised as a proper gentlemen, but she had to face facts. There was no such thing, not when men got comfortable.

Draco downed the last of his juice. "I have a favor to ask..."

"What is it?"

He looked into her, not at her, but into her very core pleadingly. "Come with me to the manor."

To Hermione he might as well have asked her to dip her head in acid. "What?"

"I think you heard me."

"Fine then, why?"

"I want you to meet my mum. It would please her very much to know that someone forgave me, that it was possible after all that happened."

She piled her fork, and cup on the plate, and stood up abruptly, his feet falling to the floor, and he grunted in pain bending down to rub his heels. She dumped the dishes loudly into the sink. The plate was probably broken, but this didn't matter to her. She gripped the edge of the sink, begging her stomach not to refuse her pudding. Her chest was hurting again. The Healer said that it was a sign of stress. _Stop it, Draco,_ she begged.

"Please, use your Gryffindor courage -"

"No," she yelled, and turned to face him. He looked stunned. "How can you ask that of me? How _dare_ you?"

"We won't go in the drawing room!"

"Oh, you're going to show me where you threw my friends at then?"

Draco now stood, banging the table with his fists. "That isn't fair! I didn't throw them in there!"

"No, you just stood, and watched it happened!"

He picked up his plate, and threw it at the opposite wall, it shattered into a million pieces flying over the tile floor at her feet. She coward back in fear. "I knew you didn't forgive me! I knew it!"

"That's not what this is about," she hushed. Her legs were giving out on her, not wanting to support her anymore. She slid down the fridge, and onto the floor, on the broken glass. They cut into her, blood smearing on the tiles, red on white, bright, and vivid. She cried, but not from the glass.

"Hermione," he rushed to her, the plate crunching under his boots. He knelt next to her, careful to avoid any pieces that would cut into his knees. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Here, let me help you."

She shoved him, but either she was too weak to put any energy into it, or he had an amazing stance. She feared it was the former. It had been such a lovely morning. It only figured that it would get messed up somehow.

"Get out of my house, Malfoy. I don't know why you're here..."

His brows knitted in confusion. "You know why I'm here."

"Not anymore. Leave."

"Herm -"

"It's Granger to you! Get out of my house!" Rage swept through her like a tide, and because of it she didn't know what happened last night, or why she was feeling incredibly sad about the thought of him doing as she said. She couldn't see anything, but red.

"I can't do that. I told Kingsley that I would watch after you, and that's what I intend to do." He snatched her arm pulling her up, and sitting her in a chair. He took his wand out of his pocket, and pointed it the deepest cut below her knee.

She snatched his wrist stopping him. "You're not a Healer."

"When you live with my parents you learn quite a bit about the career. Now, let me go so I can heal you." She didn't, and he looked her in the eyes. "Trust me, Hermione."

There was something in his eyes that made her let him go, and she didn't correct him about the use of her given name. With a brilliant purple light her wound healed. He did this with each cut, with careful words, and touches. He took a cloth out of the pocket of his jeans that he pulled before he came down, and damped it under the tap, bringing it to the dry blood, cleaning her diligently. She watched him closely as he did this. She wondered how many times he had to clean his own wounds. She never asked, she didn't want to know that perhaps his father was a crueler man than she had imagined. Having a hatred towards muggles was one thing, but to take out anger physically against ones own child was another.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. She wasn't sorry about the fight, she wasn't sorry about telling him to leave, but she was sorry for his past. He, of course, wouldn't know what she meant, and she decided to elaborate. "I'm sorry about what you've gone through."

He looked up at her, the cloth stilled over a wound at her ankle. "My pain is nothing compared to yours. I've had it easy enough."

"Don't compare our pains." She took a deep breath gathering her Gryffindor courage. He had done a lot for her. She thought it, and said it out loud, "apologizing was the best gift you could've given me. I'll go with you to the manor."

He was hopeful. "Will you?"

She smirked, much like his own. "What should I wear?"

He laughed, "it's the manor. What you have on is fine."

She looked down at her worn jeans, and yellow top. "I suppose it's better than what I had on last time." Truth was she couldn't remember what she wore the last time she was there, but she knew they were faded, and ripped. All those months in the tent searching for horcruxes had made sure of it.

"Brown. You were wearing brown shorts, and a brown top. They were very baggy. You had lost a lot of weight."

Shocked, she stared at him. Then remembered that although she could recall the pain, the rug, the taunts, and his expression, it was he who wasn't being physically tortured, so his mind was branded with every detail. She didn't know how she could be certain of this, but she was. He had gone though just as much as they did. "It wasn't easy for you, was it? Watching me..."

He took a strand of her hair, curling the tendril around his pale finger. "It was one of the worst nights of my life. I watched a lot of people tortured, but to watch you... You were someone I knew. It took work hating you, Hermione. I hated that I wasted all those years doing so." He shook his head. "We don't have to go. It's awful of me to ask you -"

"No, I'll go." She didn't want a way out. She wanted to face it head on. If she did, perhaps her nightmares would cease. Maybe his would too. She touched the silver draconis around her neck. It may be a beginning for both of them.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Welcome to the Manor

_I'm a Gryffindor,_ Hermione chanted silently. It had become a mantra as they walked to the very large iron gate, snakes making up the curved designs. The manor stood large, and intimidating behind it. Through the gates they strolled up to the double doors. Draco banged the brass snake knocker, and took her hand twining his fingers with hers. One of the doors opened to reveal a small houself with large bat ears, and round blue eyes in a raggedy pillowcase. She squeaked happily.

"Master Draco, you're home, sir!"

"Hello, Gypsy. Is mother home?"

"She's with Master Lucius, sir."

"Father? Father's here?" His hand dropped from hers in shock.

"I'm here," the disembodied voice said through the darkness beyond the doors, and a glint sparked. Gypsy flew forward squeaking in pain this time, and Lucius Malfoy showed himself cane in hand.

Hermione knelt next to the elf helping her up. It wasn't hard, the elf couldn't have weighed more than a bag of flour. Gypsy looked almost horrified at someone helping her as though no one done it before.

"Welcome home, son." Lucius turned to the elf, who was bowing low in show of gratitude to Hermione. He cuffed the back of Gypsy's head, emitting another cry from her. "Do not bow to those lower than yourself, Gypsy. Go dunk your head in the toilet."

Gypsy ran away, "yes, Master Lucius."

Hermione stood to her full height. She was going to tell him off, and realized that him, and Draco were glaring at each other. It was like watching lightening battle, the intensity was that strong, cracking the air around them. She saw that they had the same eyes... No, they were different. Draco's was softer, while his father's were harder.

"Escape, father?"

"Released a week ago. I'd like to thank you for visiting." Lucius' tone dripped sarcasm. He looked awful, his long blonde hair not as shiny, and smooth as it once was, his cheeks sunken in.

"Pay the Ministry, did you?"

"Potter's had quite the moral influence on them. Good behavior, Draco, that's why I was let out. Imagine my surprise to learn that you are working at the Ministry as an assistant, under a mudblood." His gaze flickered to Hermione. I've never been more ashamed of you, son. You've brought disgrace to the family name."

"That _mudblood_ happens to be the best lawyer there is in Great Britain, and for you're information, I've quit."  
Lucius laughed deeply. "If she's the best lawyer then why prêt ell did you quit such a lowly job?"

Draco took Hermione's hand twining her fingers with his. "I think you know your answer."

The stare was murderous that became gleeful. It was out of the depths of Hermione's nightmares. She tried to disapperate them, but it was like her feet were cemented to the ground. They couldn't disapperate on private grounds, and she felt panicked.

Like thunder the back of Lucius' hand crashed on Draco's cheek, and Hermione drew her wand pointing it directly at Lucius' heart, or where it would be. It was a reflex out of anything.

Lucius grabbed the snakes head of his cane slipping off the sheath. A wand pointed back at her. "You stand no chance against me."

"I've survived once," she sounded a lot stronger than she felt. Inside, she was shaking.

"You won't this time."

Before she could fire Draco had his wand out, but wasn't fast enough to block the spell his father sent. Draco flew backwards off the porch, and onto the brick pathway. He groaned, his hands frantically, and blindly seeking his surroundings no doubt for his wand that laid feet from him in the neatly mowed grass.

Hermione's wand flew out of her grasp, and into Lucius' waiting hand. "Welcome to the manor, Ms. Granger."

A flash of light followed by darkness.

* * *

Hermione's head spun. She could have puked. She almost did swallowing the stinging, pungent bile in her throat. She tried to move, not ready to open her eyes. She was lying on her side on a cold, hard surface, her legs, and hands bound together by thick coils of rope. Wherever she was it was freezing, and smelled of... Wet concrete. There was no other words to describe it.

Hesitantly she looked around, but she could hardly tell if she opened her eyes at all. Everything was pitch black. There was nothing to see, and so she tried to speak, but her throat was parched, making it nearly impossible.

"Can't speak, Ms. Granger. Now, that's a first," Lucius' voice sounded from... Somewhere. "How does it feel, to know that you'll never see your friends again? My son has brought shame on himself, and his family, and I plan to remedy his newfound views. I _will_ have my son back. I might just let you live long enough to see him hate you. Lumos."

Hermione was blinded by the wand light. It got brighter as clicking footsteps became louder. She didn't have to see to know he was beside her. She recoiled despite the urge to stay still, to show no fear.

"I don't blame Draco, you see. I blame you. You must've brainwashed him, because no flesh, and blood of mine would like something like you." He clucked his tongue. "Pity, who's going to save you? With Potter's blood-traitor wife, he won't notice his mudblood friend missing. Such a pity."

She hid the comfort she felt. Harry would notice, him, and Ginny. She was supposed to be there for dinner after all. They would drop by her house, and see that she wasn't there. Harry would come for her, he would have every Auror out there searching for her. Lucius must have sensed this.

"How will they know where to look?"

Her hope vanished, symbolic to the way Lucius extinguished the light of his wand. They wouldn't think to look for her there. She heard him laugh, and then pain wracked her body, like flesh being burned from the bone, the stabbing of twenty knives in her gut. If she was screaming she didn't know, her throat strained, and there was a roaring in her ears like the ocean waves, only a hundred times louder.

Then, it stopped, but the pain continued dully. The knives were still there. She didn't dare move. She was afraid to breathe. Maybe he thought she was dead, and in that case let him. He might leave her be, let her rot. There was no such chance.

"Your time is numbered, but for now, you can relax. Draco will be the one to kill you. Goodnight, Ms. Granger."

She didn't answer.

"I said goodnight!"

The knives incased themselves in her gut again, the burning, her flesh being ripped off. It was cruel not to let her die for she would have given anything to have it be over with. Lucius let up.

"It is manners to respond in kind, Ms. Granger."

If she had been in her right mind she would have laughed. She would rather die of a million ruddy curses than to respond in kind to someone who wasn't. However, when she opened her mouth to tell him this, blood spilled.

Lucius chuckled. "My son will have to see what happens when he disobeys."

Footsteps faded away, and in the distance a door slammed. She tasted copper, her whole mouth was filled with blood. The door opened again.

"Hermione?"

_Draco_, she thought with relief. She would be okay, everything was fine. Draco was with her. She looked up, and by the light through the cracked door she saw someone unrecognizable, a face colored with blue, and purple bruises, lumps, and a cut at the hairline that bled down to the brow.

"Oh, what did he do to you," he breathed, echoing her thoughts. He fell to his knees, smoothing back her hair tenderly. "This is all my fault," he broke. "Oh, I'm sorry." He cried out loudly, in a heart wrenching sob, tears flowing down his face.

Hermione wanted to hold him, she wanted nothing more. It tore at her like the curse. "Don't," she begged, her throat raw, and bleeding out of the corner of her mouth.

Shakily he wiped it away, bringing his face to the crook of her neck.

"Red," she commented with amusement.

"What?"

"My blood is red," she grinned while more trickled on her cheek.

"Your blood is of no importance," he said seriously, and in a much lower voice said, "listen, Hermione, I know what my father's planning, but I'm going to find a way out, I promise you, you have to trust me, like you did that night flying. Trust me, and just hold on, swear to me you will."

She nodded. He put a hand on her cheek, and kissed her head. "You can never forgive me for this."

"Yes," she croaked, insistent. "I do."

She felt him tremble, and he pulled away, her cheek suddenly cold without his touch. She listened his footsteps dying, door closing. She was alone in a cold, damp room, with hunger pains, and her lover may transform back into her former enemy. She saw herself dying there like she should have all those years ago.

A/N: This story is filled with many complicated, and conflicting emotions, and it will only get more so as the story progresses. I want to state here that I'm not doing any of this without reason. I will never write to simply shock, or confuse you. Both of these characters have gone through a lot, and they are still dealing with their own demons. The years have changed them in certain aspects. I'm putting them through their worse nightmares because they both have a lot more to learn. One of the lessons here other than forgiveness is to let things be, to accept what comes, and to trust.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Gone

Draco asked her to trust him. He promised that he would find them a way out. For the next two weeks (this was only a guess, because she had no idea), she held onto that. She promised him that she would stay alive, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold on. Lucius was keeping her alive giving her meager rations such as bread, and water, allowing her uses of the bathroom, but using unforgivable curses on her five times a day. She was catching a cold making her throat bleed even worse. She was dying slowly, and she was losing hope. She hadn't seen Draco since that first day, and Harry hadn't come to save her. What if Lucius had been right all along? No, that wasn't true, they loved her, but that didn't mean they could save her.

Hermione had been released of her bindings. Her wrists remained chaffed, but she was able to move if she tried hard enough, though it was only to switch positions on the floor. She could no longer stand without help, and it was always little Gypsy to help her, her orb-like eyes watering each time in sympathy.

She washed her hands in the tap, and then cupped them to drink. It did little to soothe her throat, but it helped curb the pain in her stomach. Gypsy with a hand on her side holding her up magically.

The bathroom wasn't spectacular. She knew it was meant for prisoners, for the toilet was made out of rotting wood, the shower had no curtains, but a hole in the floor for the water to drain. It was better than the chamber she was kept in, but perhaps that is because she spent so much of her time there.

When Hermione dried, Gypsy lead her over to the edge of the tub, steadying her, and turned to lock the door. She ambled up to Hermione, examining her.

"You will change this family!"

Hermione thought that the poor elf might have been beaten over the head too many times, or maybe Hermione wasn't registering things as well as she used to. "I'm sorry, Gypsy, I'm not following." Her throat ached terribly, and her voice was raspy, barely heard.

"Master Draco had never treated Gypsy better since Master Lucius went to Azkaban. You are Harry Potter's best friend, you save houselves from enslavement. You'll save us all, you'll save this family!"

Hermione wanted to cry, but her eyes had been dry for a week. She had nothing more to give. "Do you understand what's happening?"

Gypsy nodded her head vigorously, causing her ears to flap. "Don't worry, Master Draco will save you. Gypsy knows he loves you!"

She leaned forward. "Are you supposed to be telling me this?"

"No... Gypsy is a bad elf. Dobby had a bad influence on Gypsy..."

Hermione grinned for the first time in weeks thinking of the late elf. He had been an odd one. He knew that he deserved freedom, and Harry gave him that in their second year at Hogwarts. She loved Dobby dearly, and was incredible sad to learn that he was killed by Bellatrix in order to get them out of the manor. He died a hero's death.

"Gypsy, listen to me closely, okay?" The elf nodded. "You are not a bad elf, you're a great elf. Never think less of yourself."

Gypsy beamed. "Such a high compliment to Gypsy! Thank you!"

She sniffed, her nose running. She sneezed, her brain wracking. "Can you tell me how Draco is doing?"

"Master Draco is well. Gypsy can't say more."

"That's fine, I just needed to know he was okay."

The elf that had still been smiling unexpectedly frowned. "Gypsy must take you back now."

"I understand. Help me, please?"

She bent low, her nose touching the floor. "It will be a pleasure for Gypsy." She laid a hand to Hermione's side, and carried her down to the chamber in which she was being kept. It wasn't a long walk, it was fairly close, just a hallway down. It felt like much more, but that was only because she was weak.

With the utmost care, Gypsy laid her on the floor. The very cold floor. Hermione sneezed, sniffled, and coughed up blood. Gypsy went to lay her palm on Hermione's throat, but she gripped her wrist. "No," she told the elf.

"You'll die."

"Let me die." Hermione gazed up at Gypsy who looked a downtrodden as possible. "If you help me, you will be punished, and I'm ready. I'm ready to go. If you're going to do me any favors, kill me, Gypsy."

Gypsy squeaked in horror. "No, Gypsy can't do that!"

"You better go, Lucius'll be mad."

The elf patted the matted hair on Hermione's head, and left, tiny footsteps sounding like a child's disappeared. If Hermione survived, she knew she wouldn't, but if she did, she would free that elf, she would do anything to make sure that elf knew the freedom her friend Dobby had for such a short time.

She flinched as she heard the door open. It was only an hour ago that she had food, and she had just returned from the bathroom which only meant one thing. Torture. She curled up into a ball protectively, and her curiosity was peaked when she heard not one, but two footsteps. Lucius wasn't alone... Maybe today was the day she would die. It was hopeful thinking, useless, hopeful thinking.

Two figures stood over her, one was Lucius. The other was a dark Italian boy Hermione recognized from Hogwarts. A Slytherin, deatheater, and one of Draco's closest friends, Blaise Zabini. She didn't know whether to feel relief, or be more worried.

"I almost didn't believe it," Zabini admitted. "You really do have one of the golden trio, and she walked right up on your doorstep. Stupid girl."

Lucius laughed deeply. "Mudbloods, are not know for being bright."

"If you don't mind, Mr. Malfoy, I'd like a few moments alone with her."

"Not at all, Blaise, take your time." He walked away, his exaggerated shadow cast behind him, the loud closing of the door.

Zabini bent next to her head, and Hermione flinched instinctively.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a low, disgusted voice. "Mind you, I'm only here because of Draco. So you're the mudblood he's been corresponding with."

She nodded very carefully, but even the slightest movement made her head spin.

"Can you speak?"

"Barely." She was hoarse.

"Then I'm sorry to ask you to scream." She looked at him inquisitively, and gruffly repeated, "scream unless you want Lucius to come back down here, he needs to think I'm hurting you, so scream you foolish girl."

She screamed, it was gruff, cracked, and blood splattering from her mouth. Zabini took out a handkerchief out of his pocket wiping it along her cheek where the drops had fallen. "Good, good," he whispered.

Hermione cried dryly from the use of her throat, and cried harder when she coughed.

"I know everything. I know about the letters, how you got here. Draco has told me every single detail. I think he's gone mad, we always said that maybe one day we would find a way out of our birthright, but for our safety. I didn't know he would be having relationships with mudbloods too.

"Now, listen to me, and listen good, because I'm not going to repeat this: Draco's in his old house, he's back under his father's decisions, back into the world of dark arts. Do _not_ think that he will come to his senses. I'm warning you, Granger. When someone's re-introduced to their old ways, they stick to their ways, no one ever really changes."

Hermione mouthed, "yes," but she didn't believe it. She couldn't, not until Draco himself showed that this was the case. She felt the necklace he gave around her neck. He swore he would be on the right side. However, she knew that psychologically Zabini was right. She might lose Draco for good, or might have already lost him. He might never come for her, and if he did, it would be only to kill her.

"Buona fortuna, Granger. Mi dispiace. Scusarmi per la mia torti." Zabini left.

An hour later the door opened again, and again, she heard two distinct footsteps. Two people. She doubted it was Zabini this time. Deep down, she knew exactly who it was. She was going to see if Zabini's theory was correct.

"Go ahead son, prove your loyalty."

Her eyes snapped open, and she saw Draco standing over her with a wand. She could guess that it was Draco, for though the bruises, lumps, and cuts were gone, he was gaunt, and paler than usual. For a mere second she thought she saw a flash of something in his eyes... Worry, hopelessness, remorse? It was gone as quickly as it had come, and she doubted that she saw it in the first place. She didn't have more time to think about it, because there was that all too familiar pain. She let it take her, let it tear her apart, let it rip every bit of strength from her. She didn't cry, or scream, she let the blood pour from her mouth, let her body go rigid.

When the curse was lifted, she laid there, forcing herself to stay conscious, forcing her eyes to lock onto Draco's. She saw nothing, and as he leaned down to rip the necklace from her neck she saw he was empty. He was gone. He wasn't hers. When she thought she had no more tears to cry, she cried, small tears leaking from the corner of her eyes.

The pain, it hit her again. She wasn't aware of anything around her. There was only blackness, and agony. She was so close. Death was right there, tempting her. She wanted it. She begged for it. There was nothing to live for anymore. Her parents probably already thought her dead, they would be okay, Harry, and the Weasley's would look after them, and they themselves would be all right. Her only regret was that she hadn't seen Ron one last time, she wouldn't get to see any of them again. Their faces flashed before her. Her parents, her father's hair, and mother's figure both to match her own. Harry, his messy black hair, and bright green eyes behind round, thick glasses. Each of the Weasley's with their vivid mane, and Ron with his freckles. Baby Teddy, and Fred. Would all of them miss her as much as she had missed them? The babies wouldn't even remember her, and that was for the best.

The pain was over. For now. Draco had let up, and the temptation was stronger than ever. So close...

_I love you all... I'm sorry I couldn't hold on, that I wasn't clever enough to stay away. You all warned me, and I failed. I love you. I love each, and every one of you. Forgive me..._

"Kill the mudblood, Draco, and you may have back your freedom."

He directed his wand at her heart. She readied herself for the blow. Today was the day she was finally going to die. _I'm sorry... I love you... I'm sorry... Forgive me... I can't hold on... Goodbye..._

A/N: I do not speak any Italian, I'm using an electronic translator, so it may be rough, or incorrect, and I apologize if so. What Blaise says will be mentioned in English in a later chapter.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

With What's Left

Hermione watched Draco, silently begging him to get on with it. Was he doing this purposely to her, making her wait? Did he know how much pain it was causing her to live? It hurt more than anything to see that nothing mattered to him, that all he said was a lie. He led her there. It was all planned, and elaborately so. She was supposed to be the smartest witch of her age. What happened to her?

"What are you waiting for, Draco? Kill her, already! Don't be weak, do it!"

Draco spun on his heels, his wand pointing at his father. "I don't think so."

There was a flash of light, and it disoriented Hermione for a second. When it was gone, she saw Draco on the floor. She felt a rush of emotions, worry, sadness, elated, and sick.

"You foolish boy," Lucius spat. "How dare you try to curse your father! You're a shame upon me, a smudge on the family name, and an abomination upon your blood! You disgust me!" Another bright light erupted out of his wand.

Draco screamed. She never heard such pain come from one person. Did she sound like that? She couldn't speak, but she begged Lucius to stop, she clawed at the ground as if it were her being tortured. _Stop,_ she thought desperately, _stop it, he's your son! He's your son!_

There was a bang, and there was once more light, but not from Lucius. It came from the doorway. Lucius was on the floor, out cold, and there were footsteps.

They were saved. Harry had come for them; he would get them out. But she was wrong. It wasn't Harry she saw. It was Zabini, and he went straight for Draco.

"Draco, you okay mate?"

Draco was curled into a protective ball, and he unfurled at this question. "Yes..." His voice was raspy. "Hermione... Check on her."

Zabini looked back, straight into her eyes, and nodded. "She's fine, man."

"Mother..."

"I got her out of the room Lucius locked her in. She'll be all right. C'mon, lets get you up."

He was shaky on his feet, but became more sure of his steps as he bent to search his father's pockets. He pocketed the wand he found, his wand, and rushed to her. She flinched as he picked her up, holding her as close as he could to his chest.

"What're you going to do with her?"

"Potter's outside with some help."

"You told Potter?!"

"If this turned out badly someone had to get Hermione help. Potter was my best choice, all I had to do was get her out there," he sneered, and mumbled, "go figure." His fingers dug into her flesh tighter, as he added, "stay here with my father, keep an eye on him."

"Fine, just get the mudblood out of here, I can feel myself getting dirty."

"Blaise, we both know that you have nothing against mudbloods, the act's up, Voldemort is gone, and lets face it, we have Potter, Weasel, and this _mudblood_ in my arms to thank for it." Without waiting for a response Draco ran with her to the open door of the chamber, up two staircases, to what she supposed was the landing. She was getting nauseous from the bounce in his walk, the whirling colors of the house. She closed her eyes.

"Open your eyes, Hermione!"

Barely audible she answered, "no."

"Damn you, open your eyes. Keep them open. You might not wake up otherwise."

"Good..."

She was dropped on something soft, perhaps a couch, and felt something strange on her lips. She cracked open her eyes just enough to see Draco kissing her. Both of their lips were chapped, and it was like sandpaper rubbing together. One of them bleed, and she tasted the all too familiar copper. She closed her eyes again. She felt herself slipping, and was only brought back by the sudden feel of warm wetness on her cheeks. Draco was crying.

"I'm sorry," he apologized against her. "I'm sorry, but I had to do that, I had to make him believe. I wouldn't have killed you. I had to take him off guard. I'm sorry. I -" He broke off in a sob. "Look at me, Hermione. Look at me!"

She didn't look. She couldn't. It was too much energy to lie there, and listen, to concentrate on his words, and understand them. His arms scooped her up, and they were outside. She felt the cold wind on her bare limbs.

She heard the sweet voices of the ones she thought she'd never hear again. Hermione could tell who was who. Harry, Seamus, Ron... Ron! He was there. He came back. She desperately tried to open her eyes, to see if she had finally gone mad, but she couldn't. She cursed herself for being so frail.

"Give her to me," Seamus demanded harshly, and she was exchanged in someone's arms. Seamus' arms, strong around her. "This is all your fucking fault Malfoy! I knew I shouldn't have left her alone with you."

Draco ignored this. "Come on, Potter, Weasley, I'll show you where my ruddy father is."

She felt someone's hand on her cheek, and instinctively she knew it was Harry's. "Take her to my house, Seamus. She shouldn't have to wake up in St. Mungo's. Ginny will alert a Healer to the house."

"What about, Malfoy? He's going to be arrested, right?"

"Malfoy senior, yes. Junior over there... Hermione will decide that."

"D'you think she'll be in her right mind, Harry?"

"We'll tell when she wakes."

Hermione was in her right mind! She felt very indignant that they would question her sanity, but how could they not? She had no idea how long she had been gone. She was going to tell them she was okay, but she fell into a slumber, safe in Seamus' arms.

The slight move of her fingers. Her toes. Then she opened her eyes to a white ceiling. She looked over and saw a mauve wall. She looked to her right, and saw Seamus slumped in a chair, his chin on his chest, softly snoring. She laid there in contentment, watching him. This was the closest peace she had achieved in so long. If she could she would have stayed there forever simply looking at him.

She must have been in the Potter's household. She recognized this room as the guestroom, because she helped Ginny decorate it. They painted the room, and added dark cherry furniture like the bedside table with lions feet with a matching wardrobe, desk, and full length mirror.

"Hermione?!" Seamus had woke, and grinned, but he was obviously worried. He shot up in his chair, placing a hand on her forehead checking her temperature, he felt the pulse on her wrist. She laughed at this, but because it was the sweetest thing she had ever seen. He looked at her oddly. "You feeling all right? Do you remember anything?"

She stopped laughing. "I'm fine, Seamus. I remember..." The memory her flesh had memorized brought back, and she shuddered. He gripped her hand tightly, reading every body movement as if it were a sign of something deep, and important. "Everything," she finished. "Where's Draco?"

"Gone." Seeing her expression, he quickly added, "he's not dead. He left after Lucius' arrest. Told us to watch after you."

"Where is he?"

He seemed offended. "No idea. Didn't ask."

She wasn't going to get any information about Draco from Seamus, so she changed the subject. He was alive, that was enough for her to know then, even if it hurt that he wasn't there. "How long was I...?"

"You were there for three weeks..."

"My job," she thought suddenly.

Seamus laughed this time. "You're okay then, if you're worried about your job. Typical, Hermione. You're job is fine, Kingsley handed over your cases, and when you're better it's waiting for you."

She sighed relieved. Everything had been taken care of. "This is the worst vacation ever." She meant it as a joke, but it wasn't. "Tell me what's been going on..."

"When you didn't show up for dinner, Harry went by your house, and saw you, and Draco were missing. After two days he owled Ron, and he took leave to help. After a week, when they couldn't find either of you, they knew where you were, but it was a lot of work to break all the dark spells on the house. Malfoy owled us to inform that he would be bringing you out. We were beginning to think you were dead. Now, your turn, why were you at that house? Did Lucius kidnap you?"

"Kind of..." Her head was starting to hurt, but she continued. "Draco wanted me to meet his mother, and Lucius answered the door..."

"It was a trap."

"If it was, why didn't Draco just kill me? He had his chance. He wouldn't have brought me out."

He leaned forward, taking her hand in both of his. "I want you to tell me everything, everything that happened."

She felt tears stinging her eyes. "No."

"You have to -"

"I don't have to do anything," she yelled.

Ginny, hair disarray, her pajama top hanging off her shoulder came skidding into the room. "You're awake," she gasped happily, and ran to hug her friend, Seamus letting go of her hands to let her hug her back. "Oh, you're so thin. What do you want? Black pudding? I just cooked some up."

Hermione's eyes widened, and Ginny smirked.

"Sorry, Hermione, I'm jesting. Dean's been here, he cooked it. Thought you deserved something edible," she rolled her eyes.

"I'll bring it up to you." She rushed out.

"Did he really cook it," Hermione asked Seamus when she was sure that Ginny had left.

"Yeah, I owled him to come by today, and help. Seems you are able to survive anything, but I have my doubts about what she calls food. Harry has been too busy to do anything else since you disappeared. Poor sap has been eating out every night."

Hermione felt flattered, and guilty at the same time. "Didn't mean to cause so much trouble."

"You would've done the same for any of us, Hermione." He sighed. "Do you think you'll feel up to going down to dinner in a few nights? We all want to have a small celebration on your return."

She smiled, the thought of seeing everyone of them again when she thought she wouldn't. "That would be wonderful."

Harry, Ron, Luna, Nevielle and Ginny with a tray of pudding appeared up at the door, all of them grinning from ear to ear.

Ron conjured up three more chairs, and as Ginny sat the tray gingerly on Hermione's lap the rest took their turns kissing her forehead, and cheek. They sat down, Harry saying, "welcome home, Hermione."

She felt tears spring up in her eyes. "Thank you. For everything."

Harry took her hand, "after all you've done for me..." He grinned, and she cried harder.

"I thought I'd never see any of you again."

No one said anything. They all thought the same, but they were together then. Hermione was comforted by that, but she still felt sad. Someone was missing... He shouldn't have belonged in that room, or in her life, but he did, and she wanted him there.

"You're thinking of him," Ginny noted.

Harry let her hand go, and reached in his pocket taking out an envelope. He gave it to her. "Malfoy gave me that before he left." He glanced over at Seamus in question to her knowing about him to which Seamus nodded.

Hermione ripped it open, the silver draconis necklace falling in her lap. She held it as she read. When she reached the end of the letter fresh tears cascaded down her face.

_My Dear Hermione,_

_A thousand apologizes, flowers, a brand new start to a friendship... Nothing can make up for what I did. I did it for a reason. It's ironic that I had to hurt you to save you. I can't live with knowing that I recreated your worst nightmare, because of my selfishness. This is the end. I won't cause you any more pain. They will take care of you, you're loved, and this will get me through the rest of my days to know that you are safe. Be happy, and sleep soundly._

_With What's Left, Draco_

"He's gone," she whispered. She felt the bed sink where Ginny sat, and felt herself being wrapped in her arms. Hermione laid her head on her shoulder, and bawled.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Celebration

With the potions that the Healer had left for Hermione, she felt much better by the next afternoon. She felt almost like herself. She had a shower, she was in clean clothes. They were much looser on her with all the weight she had lost, but she would gain it back quickly with the meals Dean was sending over.

Following Healer's orders she was to stay with the Potter's for at least a week. This was perfect in her opinion. As much as she would like to get back to her normal schedule she was glad to not be alone. If Harry, and Ginny weren't there, Ron was, and even still Seamus stopped by daily. Mrs. Weasley had been over every other day. It almost filled the void of not seeing her parents. Harry was right in telling them that she had been overloaded with work, had left on vacation, and now had to make up some cases. She didn't want them to worry.

The nightmares had continued nightly. Ginny, and Ron took turns staying in bed with her. Like Draco had. She missed him. It was a literal ache in her chest. She could go on with her life like he wanted her to, but that was too long of a road. She wanted him. Need was always stronger than want, but in this case it wasn't. She didn't need Draco, he wasn't air, or water, but she did want him. She would always want him, so to ease the ache, she wrote him at night, her writing supplies conveniently at her bedside table.

In a week she was feeling up to going downstairs. Slowly she had regained most of her energy. It started out as baby steps across the room. Then it was down the hall. Now she could get down the stairs, and she was anxious to see everyone again for the celebration dinner. She had to see everyone in her own reassurance that she was indeed alive.

In a yellow sundress, and matching sandals she put on herself, her hair down in its wild curls she walked down to dinner. The kitchen completed with stone walls, and floor, was nearly matching the one in Hogwarts, except for today there were blue balloons floating at the ceiling, and all of her favorite foods lying out on the large table. She felt proud to walk in, but self conscious that everyone turned to look at her, all smiling. Mr., and Mrs. Weasley, George, Angelina, Fred, Harry, Ginny, Teddy, Ron, Luna, Nevielle, Seamus, and Dean. Mrs. Weasley held her tight.

"You feeling well, dear?"

"Much better, thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

Seamus held out an arm, and led her over to the chair head of the table. He kissed her cheek, close to the corner of her mouth, and whispered in her ear, "good to have you back, Hermione."

Three-year-old Fred, and four-year-old Teddy, both a head taller than when she saw them last came running up to her, jumping in her lap. She grunted out of surprise. Everyone jolted up at the same time to pry them off, but Hermione laughed, and hugged them.

"Aunt Miney, you feel better," asked Fred.

She kissed his red head. "Yes, thank you." She turned, and kissed the teal head of the young metamorphagus next. "You two have been behaving, right?"

George, and Angelina laughed, and while Fred said yes, Teddy honestly said no. Hermione kissed their heads once more. She loved those two.

They all settled, and ate, the boys refusing to leave her side until the end of the meal when they ran outside to play. Hermione tried to pick up the dishes, but they were snatched from her by Mrs. Weasley who assured her that she would handle it, and she should relax. Hermione, who like the others had a bit of fear of the woman, agreed, and sat around to talk to everyone else on the porch, minus George, and Angelina who were playing with the boys in the yard. Fred, and Teddy ran barefoot over the grass, George, and Angelina chasing them not running nearly as fast as she knew they could.

While they talked, she idly fingered the draconis necklace. She didn't notice she was doing this, busy laughing at a joke that Ginny told about the latest Quidditch match until Seamus snapped.

"Why are you still wearing that thing?"

Hermione gaped at him. "The necklace? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because Malfoy gave it to you!"

"You're acting silly."

"I am? He didn't even have the courtesy to see if you were okay!"

She bit her lip to stop the tears she knew were coming. "Stop it," she said, louder than she intended. She was standing suddenly, her head rushing, everyone staring at her.

Ginny pulled on her arm, "sit down, you'll be sick."

"I already am. My heart is sick. I love him, Seamus, and I won't ever stop wearing this necklace. If it bothers you so much, then don't see me. In fact, I'll do you a favor." She went inside, slamming the door. Once she did that she was overwhelmed with nausea. She was shaking, and she fell hard on all fours.

The door swung open, and Harry, and Ron rushed to her, grabbing her elbows pulling her back up. Mrs. Weasley out of breath came to the doorway of the kitchen towel in hand.

"What happened," she demanded. "Hermione, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Hermione assured.

Harry took her from Ron's arms, and swept her up. "I'll get her to bed."

Carefully he walked up the stairs, and into what now felt like her bedroom. He laid her on the bed, and gave her the vial of potion from the bedside table. She took a swig, and handed it back gagging. It was gross tasting of multitudes of rotten fruit.

"Thanks, Harry." She wasn't trying to be sarcastic, she was very grateful for all that he was doing for her.

"Don't let Seamus rile you up. He's upset that you're not angry with Malfoy."

"And you're not?"

Harry shrugged. "Mind you, I don't like the git, but... You do. You love him, however revolting that is, but he did get you out of there, so I suppose he's repaid his life debt to me." He brushed her hair back sweetly. "Tell me what happened, you never speak of it."

Hermione shook her head, but it made the room spin. "I can't. Not yet."

"Answer me this then, was it like last time?"

"Worse."

"How?"

She choked, and sniffed. "Because it never stopped."

"Hermione," he breathed.

"Please, go, Harry."

He nodded in understanding, and did as she wished. She found that she was even more lonely with him gone. She wanted to return to work already, but the Healer forbade it. She wanted something to focus her mind on.

She stood to write Draco, but felt bile rise in her throat. She ran to the bathroom across the hallway tripping at the toilet. She vomited in it, relieving her stomach of the contents of her supper. With sweat at her brow, she collapsed on the stone floor until Ginny found her minutes later, and carried her back to the bed with levitation. She fetched a wet rag, and wetted her forehead. It went by in a blur to Hermione.

"You shouldn't be puking, you're still too thin. I'll get the Healer tomorrow to take another look."

She groaned, clutching her stomach begging the room to stop spinning.

"Seamus says he'll drop by tomorrow. He's sorry about what he said. You know how he is."

"I know," she said dazed. She was too worried if all those curses did serious damage to worry about Seamus. Maybe she would never get well. What did Lucius, and Draco do to her?


	24. Chapter 24

Twenty-Four

The Verdict

"You've got to be kidding me!" Hermione thought she would faint. "Do the test again!"

The Healer shook her head, her blonde hair catching the light, and shining brilliantly. She was young, pretty, and could be very wrong, she had to be. "The test is a hundred percent accurate."

"No..."

"Consider yourself very lucky that it wasn't something worse. You suffered both physical, and mental torment." She took a clear vial out of her bag, and snapped it closed with perfectly manicured nails. They were blue with stars stamped on them.

Hermione was sickened, the woman looked like she worked in a sleazy pub, not at a respected hospital. She should ask for someone else, because there was no way what that Healer told her could be true. There was no way at all. She was a strong person, a smart person, and it didn't happen to people like her.

"Take this potion every morning, and night if needed."

Hermione took the bottle, examining it closely, and put it on the bedside table. She dryly thanked the Healer, and watched her leave the room which was a relief on its own.

On the edge of the bed she cried, and gathered herself for a few moments. She was glad she had asked everyone to wait in the lounge while she received her verdict. She wanted to know what was wrong with her first, before she felt any sympathy from the others.

She looked over herself in the mirror, smoothing her hair, and wiping the tears from her eyes. She looked... Haunted. If she had spent her time in Azkaban she couldn't have looked worse. In time, Dean's meals would catch up with her, and she would look normal again, but the way she would feel... She would never feel the same.

Hermione checked the path in the doorway. She wondered if they had set up an Extendable Ear at her door, an old invention of the twins, used for eavesdropping, but when she reached the last step into the room, she could tell they didn't know. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Seamus looked at her quizzically from the couch, waiting impatiently. Ron's foot was tapping non-stop.

She steadied herself for the onslaught that was sure to come. "I'm pregnant."

Ron's mouth dropped, Ginny cupped her hand over hers, Harry's eyes widened, and Seamus looked as though someone shot him in the back. They didn't say anything for at most a minute. Hermione was beginning to think that they were petrified.

"Who's the father," Ron asked stupidly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You are," she joked.

"W-what? N-no, I slept! We didn't do anything! Y-you have to do something, right?"

"Yes, Ronald, you do, which means that you can't be the father."

He sighed clutching his chest, "don't do that to me! Oh, tell me it's Seamus'..."

Seamus huffed, "not bloody likely. I didn't get that far."

Hermione shot him a dirty look, but he was right, he didn't get that far.

Ginny slapped her brother's arm. "Don't be thick, Ron. We all know who the father is."

"It's going to be a Slytherin ferret," Ron growled.

"It will _not_ be a Slytherin ferret," Hermione retorted angrily.

Harry leaned back on the couch. "What are you going to do?"

She thought this was the stupidest question of all. "I'm going to keep it, of course."

"I didn't mean that, I meant are you going to tell Malfoy?"

"I've wrote him eight letters. He hasn't responded to one of them. If he doesn't want to be in my life at all, he can't be in this child's. That's the way it works, it's a package deal."

"He'll want to know."

"You're lecturing, Harry."

"Damn right I'm lecturing," he yelled getting to his feet. "This is his child! You're taking his child away from him!"

Hermione crossed her arms defiantly. "Here's the thing, Harry. He doesn't even know he's having a child. He doesn't know anything, and I'd like to keep it that way. If any of you tell him, I'll lie. I'll make sure none of you see me again!"

Harry crossed the room in three strides, which was quite a feat as the room was a good size. He held her, but she stood rigid, not letting any emotion other than anger through.

"Fine, I'm sorry it's just... If Ginny didn't tell me... If... Look, it's your choice." He released her, and she breathed in fresh air that had been denied to her, his hold that constricted. "What're you going to tell your parents?"

She shrugged. "I'll tell them that the father is a good man, and I choose not to burden his life with this. They don't need to know more than that," her voice broke at the thought of their expressions. She never thought she'd been in that position. Pregnant, without a husband. They were going to be so disappointed in her.

Unexpectedly Ginny came up, hugged her, and pushed her back, firm hands on her shoulders. "This is a good thing, Hermione. This is a wonderful, beautiful thing. You went through something horrid, and you came out alive, your baby is alive. This is a miracle if there ever was one. Malfoy may not be around, but we are. You'll stay here, we'll help you. You won't be alone, ever."

Hermione sniffed, and embraced her closely. "Thank you." Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered that the words Ginny had said were similar words that Hermione told to Draco through a letter, granted before she knew it was him. Now, he was alone... She pushed that thought back. He was alone of his own accord. "You're going to make a great godmother, Ginny."

She receded, gasping. "Really? Godmother?"

Hermione laughed, knowing long ago who she would leave her future kids with if necessary. "And Harry as godfather of course. If you two would like."

Ginny embraced her again, and jumped happily. "Yes! Oh, this is wonderful."

Harry kissed Hermione's cheek giving her a tight hug as well. "Thanks, Hermione. That means a lot."

Seamus finally spoke. "But no child should be left without a father." He moved to her slowly taking her hands. He gazed intently in her eyes. "You don't love me, do you Hermione?"

She shook her head, unable to grasp where he was going with this.

"I still love you, and maybe, one day, you'll love me the same. I'll love this child as if it were my own, even if it is a Malfoy. I'll be good to you, and the kid."

"You're not suggesting -"

"Marry me, Hermione."

Hermione bit her lip. She searched her friends expressions. Ginny was the only one that was clearly un-approving, her lips pursed tightly. She gave the strong resemblance of her mother.

Seamus sank to his knee. "I'll never leave you, I'll be faithful to you, never hurt you, and I'll keep both of you safe. You won't have to worry a day in your life. I'll make sure of it. For most of our lives we've known each other, and I love you more than I can express. No one can you love you more, Hermione, I'm sure of it. I'll be there, every day. I'll be the best husband, and father I can be. This is a promise I want to make."

She gulped down the lump in her throat. It was a tempting offer. Even if she wasn't alone with Harry, and Ginny, one day they would start their own family. She couldn't stay there forever anyhow. Hermione considered this offer. Her, and Seamus, married, raising a child... The memory of yesterday, George, and Angelina chasing after Fred, and Teddy rose. She tried to imagine her, and Seamus doing that, but she couldn't. All she could see was her, and Draco. How could she be thinking about that? She didn't know if Draco would make a good father, or wanted to be. He probably didn't. She was doing him a favor by not telling him.

"Give yourself a chance to love me..."

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully, squeezing his hands. "I don't know... This is... A lot to take in."

Seamus stroked her cheek. "You don't have to answer now. Take your time; think about it. Get back to me when you've decided."

"I will."

A/N: So many HP fan fiction authors have made Hermione pregnant that one becomes to almost expect it, but as usual I have a reason why I did it, and that's to push the characters along, and bring out some long-buried secrets. So all of you know, this story is 37 chapters long, so it's not over yet.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Last Letter

The next morning in her bedroom Hermione took the letter from Hedwig. She had no idea who it could be from. Draco wasn't speaking to her, her parents didn't use owls, and the Ministry had their emblem on it. This one simply had her name on the front, in handwriting that she didn't recognize. She almost didn't open it. It could have anything in it. She remembered the letters filled with horrible, foul smelling liquids in her fourth year. She didn't want a repeat of that... But there was nothing about her in the papers. She took it out anyway.

_Ms. Granger,_

_I am writing on the behalf of Draco. The poor bloke is a mess since you two escaped from the Manor, and as much as I hate to be the one to say that you should talk with him, I am. I know about the letters you continue sending him. Try again, don't stop. He'll come around._

_Do not take this the wrong way. I like you no better than I did in school, but you made Draco happy, and that was something I thought he couldn't feel. He's downright depressing to be around now. This is more for my benefit than anything._

_Regards, Blaise Zabini_

It was like a Slytherin to lie. Zabini knew that she wasn't stupid, no matter what he said to her in that chamber. This wasn't for his benefit, it was for his friend. She thought it admirable, and where there was once a complete lack of respect for him, there was a little. She gained most of it from that night in the chamber, when he spoke Italian. Little did he know that she spoke it fluently. Despite that, she ripped the letter into shreds, and dumped them in the rubbish bin.

Hermione went down into the kitchen, and sat with her cup of coffee at the table. Harry was over the cooker, Ginny with the Quibbler upside down. It was lovely serenity until Ginny threw the paper on the table.

"You're not going to marry him, are you?"

Hermione chortled. She knew that was coming. "I don't know yet."

"You can't."

She glared, "don't tell me what to do, Ginny. Jeez, you're starting to sound like Harry."

Ginny held a threatening finger in her face. "My husband hasn't said a word on the matter, so I do not sound like him, I'm voicing my opinion. He may love you, but you don't him, and that's the only reason to get married!"

Hermione sat her cup down. "Thanks, Mrs. Potter, but I think I can make this decision on my own. Seamus is right, I might be able to love him one day -"

"But you don't now!"

"I was wrong, you don't sound like Harry, you sound like Draco," she mumbled this, but Ginny heard.

"What?"

She sighed deeply. "That's what Draco said to me." She took her black coat off of the back of the chair. "I'm going to visit my parents. I'll be back in time for supper. Harry, tell Kingsley I said hello."

Harry waved the spatula to let her know she was heard. Since the proposal yesterday he had avoided her. Like Ginny, he constantly had an opinion of every situation, but this time he didn't want to give it. She knew he had one, and most likely it was in agreement with his wife, but he wasn't mad, he knew that to keep peace with both women he had to keep his mouth shut.

Hermione had all of her energy back, but she wasn't up to apparrating. It felt like being squeezed in a tube, and she wasn't up to feeling like her body would give out. She might never apparate again. So, she went to her parents house the muggle way. The underground to London, and from there, a cab.

The entire way she went over the possible conversations in her head. She thought of how they would react, what they would say, what she would say. How could she tell them something like this? She had been a ace student, top of her year, the smartest witch of the age. How could she have gotten herself in that situation? Why didn't either of them think of using protection. There were spells, and muggle ways alike.

Before she could come up with a way to say it, she was at the house. She wasn't ready, but she forced herself to walk up the dirt pathway to the stained glass door. It was a nice house, three stories, off-white bricks, floor to ceiling windows, and velvet curtains. Like the pathway at her house there was flowers, blue, yellow, and pink tulips.

She rung the doorbell, and her mother in her white dentistry uniform, sleek mousy hair, squealed in delight. "Hermione, you're home!" She squeezed her daughter, and called over her shoulder, "Al, she's home! Hermione's home!" She ushered her inside, asking, "where've you been?!"

"I've been feeling off, so I've been staying with Harry, and Ginny." Hermione took in the room around her. The black couch, flat screen television, wooden floor, the elegant wooden staircase to her right by the kitchen doorway.

"Are you sick? Is it the flu? You could have stayed here. I'll go put on a pot of tea."

She caught her arm before she could scurry into the kitchen. "Mum, no, it's not that. Um..."

"Hermione," her dad exclaimed from the stairs. Like his wife he was wearing his dentistry uniform, his teeth gleaming in a smile. He rushed hugging her. "Where've you been?"

"She's sick, Al. Can you prepare her old bedroom?"

"Mum, no!" Hermione sighed, trying to remain calm. "It's not that! I'm not sick."

"You said you've been feeling off..."

She motioned for the couch. "Sit, please. I'll explain."

Hesitantly, her parents took their seats on the couch, and Hermione stood in front of them. She felt like she should sit down, but she couldn't manage to sit next to them while delivering this news. Discomfited she held her arms over her stomach as if they had x-ray vision.

"I'm pregnant." It was blunt, out there, nothing to hide. It was the exact way she told her friends, but it was better than standing there procrastinating. She wasn't known to do that. She wanted this over with so she could return to the Potter's. She would rather face Ginny's nagging than be there longer than she had to.

They looked like they didn't hear her. Her mother leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Excuse me?"

"I'm pregnant."

Her father laughed. "That's impossible. To be pregnant you'd have to have..." He made a face realizing what he was saying. "Who's the father," he asked almost accusingly.

"He's a great guy..."

"Is it that boy Seamus you had been seeing," her mother asked hopefully. She never met Seamus, but she liked how he sounded.

"No, it's not Seamus. I stopped seeing him a while ago."

Her father looked ashamed of her, and Hermione couldn't have felt more awful if he had outright told her what he thought. She didn't want to know, her stomach dropped to the floor like a weight, and her eyes followed it.

Her mother spoke again, "then who is it, dear?"

"He's wonderful -"

"_Who_ is he," her father spat as if she didn't hear correctly.

"I'm not going to tell you that. He has a nice life, and I'm not going to ruin that for him."

"Does he know?"

"No..."

"You have to tell him," her father stood furious, much like Harry had. It was a repeat of last night. "This is his baby, he deserves to know."

She should have waited. It would have been better to have just shown up at the door with their grandchild than deal with it so soon after all that happened. "This is my choice, dad. I'm going to raise this kid on my own." She thought of Seamus. "No, not on my own, my friends will help. They'll be there for me. Seamus has even asked to me to marry him." She regretted that last sentence the moment she said it. Her parents didn't have to know about another crazy relationship, or whatever it was of hers. This was a big enough blow for them.

Her mother gasped. "Are you going to?"

Uncomfortably Hermione shifted feet. "I don't know."

"Do you love him?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "I don't want to talk about Seamus. We're at a weird place right now, and we're working through some things, I came here about you. Will you be grandparents?"

"What do you mean, Hermione," her father sat back down. "Of course we'll be grandparents," his jaw fell, "we're going to be grandparents," he said as if just realizing it. He clapped happily. "Jean, we're going to be grandparents!"

Her mother nodded beaming. "Yes, we are."

Hermione's parents jumped to their feet gathering her into a group hug. This was the best outcome yet. At that moment she felt that everything would truly be okay. Her parents weren't going to disown her. She had a man that loved her dearly, willing to raise an enemies child, wonderful friends that have been taking care of her. There was only one thing missing, but she wouldn't think of him then, she wouldn't ruin that moment.

Hermione left her parents house that day with loads of advice, books, possible names, people she could name her kid after, and so forth. Hogwarts hadn't filled her with so much information at one time. Her head was spinning when she left laden with a bag full of books.

When she returned to the Potter's, she made a decision. She ran straight to her room in the empty house, dumping the books on her bed, and sat at the desk in the corner.

_Draco,_

_I give up the thought (the hope if you will), that you may have meant what you said when you told me you loved me. I don't believe that anymore. You were right, you are selfish, because if what you said is true, then there is no other reason to leave me, and if there is, why not tell me? I give you up, a person who has been my confidante, friend, and lover. I'll love you to the end of my days, and on after that, but writing you is painful, and I can't take anymore pain._

_With What's Left, Hermione_

Wet drops fell on the page. Hermione folded it, placed it in an envelope, tied it to Hedwig's leg, and watched her fly off. Her last letter to Draco.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Eavesdropping

Hermione had been working in the study all day. The Healer insisted that she shouldn't overstress herself, and Harry just happened to mention it to Kingsley which prompted her boss to not allow her back into the office, and that prompted her to owl in a favor to a fellow co-worker to deliver some cases to her by owl. It wasn't easy to hide this from Harry, and Ginny, it was actually impossible, but knowing it was a losing battle, they let her work.

One afternoon, she finished up a rather long defense of a case, one that she was very glad to be working on. She was getting Gypsy out of the Manor. This defense was sure to persuade anyone, she was sure of it.

She stretched, and checked her watch for the time. She decided to take a nap before dinner. A dinner that she wasn't going to miss since Harry was cooking it. Last night he came home late from work, and Hermione unconvincingly faked sick according to Ginny to avoid eating whatever it was that she piled on the plate. It was yellow, with lumps, and Hermione truthfully felt sick just looking at it.

Halfway down the hall she stopped at a door hearing a loud pop. The sound of someone apparating, but that didn't make sense. Anyone who apparated in the house did so in the lounge. She tried to fight the curiosity, but failed, and leaned against the wall as the door was slammed. She bent her ear to it.

"This is kidnapping Potter," drawled Draco's voice, and Hermione held a hand over her mouth to hide the audible gasp that escaped.

"Turn me in then. Oh - wait, I'm head of the Auror department, you can't turn me in, and it's not like Kingsley will believe you."

"Get on with it. What do you want?"

"Do you love Hermione?"

"That's none of your business."

"I have your wand."

"... Yes, I do. What the hell is this about? What do you care for?"

"Because I don't want my godchild to grow up without a father!"

Hermione fumed, but remained in her position. When this conversation was through she was going to strangle Harry. This was not his place!

"...What?"

"You heard me."

"Hermione's...?"

"Yes!"

Silence, then. "It's not mine. Probably that bloke, Finnigan's."

Forget strangling Harry, she'd go after Draco first. How dare he suggest that she would… That stupid ferret!

There was a scuffle, and she knew that Harry had pushed him. "It's not him! Seamus'll vouch for that."

"They never?"

"No, Hermione is the type of girl that wouldn't unless she was in love. I'm surprised it was with you as much as you are." Silence again. "Malfoy? Are you all right? You look sick."

"You're kidding me about Hermione, right?"

"You think I got you for a social call?!"

"I'm going to be a father...?"

"Good, you're catching on. Now, go out, and talk with her. It's likely she's still in the study, I'll show -"

"No."

"What?"

"No!"

"You better get your arse over there right now, Malfoy," Harry's tone was warning, dangerous. "Get up!"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Explain it to me."

"To you," he joked.

"I have your wand, remember?"

"Right," he seethed. "She wrote me, everyday," his tone was calm, almost eerie, "and not once did she mention that she was pregnant."

"Calm down," he said sarcastically, "don't want to explode your already inflated head."

"Shut up, Potter. The Weaslette didn't pull this on you."

Harry sighed, "what're you going to do?"

"Do I have a choice? She didn't tell me about this. I think it's clear she doesn't want me in their lives."

"These letters… Did you respond to any of them?"

He suddenly became quiet before finally saying, "I wanted to protect her…"

He laughed loudly. "There's your problem, Malfoy. You don't seem to know who you're talking about. This is the same girl – woman, that solved Snape's riddle in our first year, destroyed a horcrux, traveled back in time to save two lives, saved, mine, and Ron's life on countless occasions, fought in battles, and she's hit, and cursed you. If it weren't for Ron holding her back she would've cursed you into next week. She's strong, and doesn't need to be over-protected. She can hold her own, she's proved that."

"She's tough as dragon's hide, I know," he sounded apologetic.

"I don't approve of what she did, but she's forgiven you. It's time that you do it for her. Lucius is gone. Bellatrix is gone. She'll be fine now."

Hermione felt ill to her stomach, and it had nothing to do with morning sickness. She was hearing the pain in Draco's voice, and to know she caused that disgusted her. He didn't have to be in her life, but if he wanted the baby he could be apart of that. It wasn't fair of her. She was going to take away her child's father. She fell against the door frame as that thought hit her. She was a terrible person.

"It's not that…" Draco coughed, steadying his tone. "I can understand why she did it… I deserve it."

"No one deserves to have their child taken from them, not even you."

"I do… I almost killed them…"

"You saved them –"

"At a price!"

"Do you want this baby? Do you want her?"

"… Yes. More than anything."

It was a lie, at least when it came to her. He never wrote… Hermione took a deep breath, gathered that Gryffindor courage that Draco admired, and prodded the door gently.

Inside Harry was standing over a hunched figure on the couch, his elbows on his knees giving the resemblance of an old man that just received horrible news. As she walked in, he looked up, shoot to his feet. He looked like he only had a couple of hours sleep at nights, and those hours were plagued by nightmares. She knew this, because it was what she was going through. She didn't look so well herself.

"Hermione," Draco greeted softly.

Harry moved to the door, but she shook her head at him saying, "I'll deal with you later," that made his feet root to the floor. For a reason she couldn't explain she wasn't angry with him, she just didn't want to be alone, especially when Draco's gaze flickered to her flat stomach, and the draconis necklace. She wanted support as she faced the man she thought she'd never see again.

"I'm sorry. I really am. It wasn't right of me... I don't expect your forgiveness, but do you? Do you forgive me," she asked hopefully.

He seemed to be weighing his options, then obviously picking one said, "that depends… Will you let me be apart of this child's life?"

Inside, she smiled. "Will you be there for it, everyday?"

"Yes."

"Then of course."

"Then yes, I forgive you."

She bit her lip worriedly. "That easily?"

He looked quickly at her, then to the floor in shame. "I almost killed you… You, and our baby. Forgiving you is the least I can I do. I'm not even sure if there's much cause for it considering what I've done," he cracked, and rubbed his eyes either tiredly, or to cover tears.

Hermione wanted to rush, and comfort him, but she didn't. "I can't forgive you if you can't forgive yourself."

He stared at her confused. "What?"

"Maybe that's the most important fact about it. It's impossible to forgive someone when they can't forgive themselves."

They stood in silence. Minutes, or hours could have gone by without notice. Hermione kept her attention on her trainers refusing to look at either of the boys, not until Draco spoke.

"It'll be a long time before I can."

"As long as you do."

He shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "Where does this leave us?"

"As soon-to-be parents."

"Us Hermione, not the baby."

She blinked back the stinging tears. "You never wrote me… You're here because of Harry, and you're staying because of the baby, but… There is no us."

He shook his head violently, "no, I don't accept that."

"Why?!"

"I wanted to protect you, I thought it would be for the best. I don't want us to grow old together, and look back to find that we made a mistake, but Potter here has a point," he grimaced, "you are tough. I want to give this another chance."

"Go away, Malfoy."

"No!"

He didn't understand. She couldn't risk getting left again. She turned, and ran into her bedroom across the hall, Draco on her heels. She slammed the door, leaning her back against it. The doorknob jiggled, and it pounded beneath her.

"Hermione!"

She sobbed sinking to the floor. She could feel the door shaking, jerking her. "Open up, Hermione! We need to talk," Draco yelled. "Please, open up." He was pleading, desperate, and she only cried harder. This was for the best, not just for her, but for her baby. She let him go, she sent him a last letter, and she was working to the best of her ability to get over him.

"Hermione! You're still wearing that necklace… I know you still love me. Please, Hermione, open the damn door, I need to talk with you!" Softly he concluded, "I need… You…"

For a solid ten minutes all they heard was each other's crying, until Harry came telling him to leave. "Take your wand, Malfoy, and get out."

"I'm not leaving here until she talks with me."

"She talked with you."

"You're the one who brought me here!"

"Get the hell out of my house, Malfoy."

"…This isn't over."

There was a small pop, and Harry knocked on the door. She stood, and opened it seeing him standing there sympathetically. His sympathy would bother her on any other occasion, but instead of telling him off she fell into his open arms, and he let her sob on his shoulder, rubbing her back.

"I hate him," she said into his shirt.

"...Then why are you crying?"

A/N: This chapter has been re-written at least ten times. I couldn't imagine Draco not being angry, but his guilt over what happened in the manor is still very fresh, and when you throw in Hermione's stubborn nature, well, this is what happened.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Unread Letters

_Hermione,_

_It was a mistake to underestimate you, but I make mistakes. So do you. We will have to keep forgiving each other, and I'll work to forgive myself, but you have to answer me. Write me._

_Desperate For Conversation, Draco_

_Hermione,_

_Why are you doing this? Stop being impossible. I know you love me. I love you too. After all this you can't give up. Don't do this to us._

_Waiting For You, Draco_

Two days, two letters. Hermione hesitated opening the third letter on the third day since seeing him. The first letter hurt, but the second was worse, merely because she knew he wasn't giving up, and she was afraid to open the new one. She did anyway. She had a natural inquisitive nature, and why change a personality trait that had been working for her thus far? The letter might even explain the pile of envelopes that two extra tawny, but large owls flew in with. They were neatly tied with a green, and gold ribbons, and she was anxious to read the contents. She opened the lone letter first, the silver draconis necklace falling out.

_I seeked retribution, and forgiveness,_

_And I received someone who lit my life from darkness._

_You gave me hope for the future,_

_I gave you grief._

_Our days as children long gone to be left with the past,_

_But I wanted to make it right._

_Cold words turned warm,_

_It should have been too little too late,_

_But there you were in my arms, and I couldn't go back._

_How can I when I tasted the sweetest flower ever to grace my presence?_

_Keep this, my words._

_Tell our child bedtime stories of two enemies,_

_Tell them a happy ending,_

_Tell them a lie._

_Tell them that the boy loves her, for that would be true._

_I love you._

_D.M._

Hermione dried her tears. She picked up the pile of letters, and opened them one by one, and realized that they were her own followed by Draco's, ones she had never seen. These were the letters she wrote him every night for a week, and her last letter to him. He responded to each of them.

_Draco,_

_When I was in that chamber, I kept the hope that we would find a way out. I trusted you, and I was right to do so. When I had lost hope that I would never see my family, and friends again, you saved me. Yes, you hurt me. I almost died, but not in your hands, but in the hands of despair. You did the only thing you knew to get us out of there, and I'm forever in your debt. Don't blame yourself for this. Come home. I miss you._

_In Debt, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_Every night I see your face, I hear your screams, and I felt the worst pain I could never imagine. I want you desperately, I want to hold you, and take it all away, but how can I do that when I'm the one did it? I was the cause of this, and though you may forgive me, I can't. It amazes me, your capacity for forgiveness. I love you. I hope you know that._

_Guilty, Draco_

_Draco,_

_My nightmares continue. I see your father, Bellatrix, you. I feel the night as if it were happening all over again. I'm not writing this to make you feel guilty, I'm writing this to let you know that I want you home. I miss feeling you beside me at night. You comforted me in a way that my friends can't. I miss your scent on my pillow._

_Yours, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_My nightmares continue too. I see you. Every night. It haunts me. There's nothing I can say in this letter that I haven't said before. I can't ask you to forgive me a second time._

_Yours, Draco_

_Draco,_

_I took my first steps today! Ron said I looked like a waddling gnome. He's still recovering from a nosebleed to the hex I sent him._

_One day at a time. Soon I'll be able to walk across the room, I know it. That potion the Healer left works wonders. It never fails to amaze me how quick one can recover in the wizarding world, though I admit it is rather disgusting. It tastes like some rotten fruit._

_I hope you are well. Are you well?_

_Still Yours, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_When I thought I couldn't love you more, you tell me you gave Weasel a nosebleed. Damn, I love you. I'm so proud that you're walking now, though it breaks my heart from the inside out that you have to learn again. I'm sure the shards are visible in my chest, and that sentence alone should tell you how I'm doing._

_Prisoner of Myself, Draco_

_Draco,_

_Your excuse isn't enough. You did what you could. Can't you understand that? Can't you understand that I love you even more for it? I know it doesn't seem possible, but I do. You can go as far away as you see fit, but I will never stop loving you. You take my heart, you take these letters, and you keep our memories. I will keep your old letters, our memories. In a way, I'll keep you. So go on, and leave. But you'll never truly leave me._

_Yours Forever, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_Can't you understand my guilt? Can't you understand that love isn't enough, and I do love you, more than any useless words can express. I refuse your heart, but I'll take the letters, and I hold our memories close, for they are the only ones of mine that are happy. Keep anything, and everything of mine if you want it. I'd give you the dark clouds, and stars if I could._

_Forever Yours, Draco_

_Draco,_

_I made it to the end of the room!_

_In Strength, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_I wish I was at the end of that room._

_In Weakness, Draco_

_Draco,_

_I walked the length of the hallway! I'm so tired, but I'm stronger. I'm getting better. Are you?_

_Thoughtfully Yours, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_Knowing that you're stronger gives me strength to go through the day._

_Thoughtfully, Draco_

_Draco,_

_Some days I think that if you cared, you would write. You would answer my questions. You would be here. Somehow, I know that you do care. That in your mind, it is the reason you stay away. I wish you wouldn't. I wish a lot of things, but most of all, my wishes are of you._

_All Yours, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_I care. I'm answering you in letters you'll never receive, I'm there in thought in every day, and night. I wish a lot of things too, and one of them is for you to read these, but I know it's best for you to be as unattached as possible. There are many wishes, but we can't dwell on these. They'll tear us apart, and break us down, and if we break down, we might see each other, or give up on life entirely. I want you to go on, and be happy._

_Always Yours, Draco_

_Draco,_

_I give up the thought (the hope if you will), that you may have meant what you said when you told me you loved me. I don't believe that anymore. You were right, you are selfish, because if what you said is true, then there is no other reason to leave me, and if there is, why not tell me? I give you up, a person who has been my confidante, friend, and lover. I'll love you to the end of my days, and on after that, but writing you is painful, and I can't take anymore pain._

_With What's Left, Hermione_

_Hermione,_

_You wrote me what I wanted to read. I want you to give up any thoughts of us, or of me. You are right, I am selfish, but I do love you, so much it hurts, it feels like I'm dying without water, and you're the only thing to quench my thirst. My reasons for dying are just. I can't hurt you anymore. Our words are killing me, but they are what I wanted. Don't love me. I'm not worth loving._

_With Nothing Left, Draco_

The desk was littered with these letters. Hermione was no longer sitting there. She was on her bed weeping into her pillow, muffling the sounds of her heart breaking. She didn't want Harry, or Ginny to come in. She wanted to be alone, and alone she was.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Greater Than Dark Clouds, and Stars

Hermione was going to ask Seamus to meet her at the Potter's when he owled her wanting her to come to Dean's restaurant. It was uncomfortable to say the least to walk into such a romantic atmosphere. It would have been much better if he had asked her to meet at the sports pub instead. She dressed in her most simple black dress, pulled her hair into a bun, and walked in seeing that he was at the same table they sat at for their first date.

Seamus' face lit up when he saw her, and she felt her heart drop considerably. He pulled out a chair for her, and she gracefully sat down as he took a seat across from her. He seemed nervous, he was fidgeting a lot with his napkin.

Hermione leaned forward. "Seamus, are you all right?"

"Y-yes." He breathed, his voice steadier as he told her, "no."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He grinned. "You weren't supposed to be proposed to like you were. You deserve something much more elegant. I was going to wait until after the meal..." He dipped to one knee beside her, reaching into his pocket.

Hermione took a breath to stop him, but when he opened the red felt box, her mouth snapped shut. The golden solitaire ring glittered in the low light. She was transfixed by the scene in front of her. It was too surreal.

"Will you marry me?"

She swallowed hard. Behind him she could see Dean waiting anxiously by the podium. Once the ring was on her finger he would be over to congratulate them. Too bad he wouldn't have that chance, because that beautiful ring wouldn't be hers.

"I can't love you like that..."

Seamus' face fell.

"I'm sorry... I..." She reached over closing the box. "Thank you for this. It takes a great man to love a woman carrying a baby, to be willing to love that baby too. I want to be in love with you, but I'm afraid I can't."

He nodded dumbly, and put the box back in his pocket his eyes to the floor. "I shouldn't have assumed. You love him."

"Seamus, look at me."

He did, and Hermione found it even harder to say what she did. She wished she would have let him look away.

"I do. As undeserving I am of you, he is of me. I can't explain why, and I don't need to. I just... Don't want you to hate me."

Harshly, he laughed. "I could never hate you. Damn Hermione I proposed to you twice. Nothing in the world can make me hate you if that doesn't, and it doesn't." He looked at their empty plates. "We haven't had dinner yet... Want to go on, and finish this would-be date?"

"I'd love to, and I don't want to be rude, but I have another appointment I have to make."

"Of course," he nodded, finally standing to his feet.

"Thank you again, Seamus. You're a good friend." She hugged him shortly, and left, giving a kind nod to Dean along the way, a signal for him to go over to his friend who sat alone at a romantic table.

Back, and forth Hermione walked in front of the house she expected to be large, but it didn't even consist of a second story. It was gray, and dark like she knew it would be, but it was small, with a black iron fence confining lush green grass that was the only color Draco's residence had. She thought of planting flowers along the pathway to the door, like she, and her parents had done. She thought how nice some plain green plants would be on the porch. Possibly a swing. She didn't realize she was contemplating all of this until she was at the door, and she forced herself to stop, realizing that she was fingering the draconis necklace she had put on when she stopped by the Potter's to change her attire to something more casual, jeans, and a t-shirt.

The knocker was that in a dragon. How typical. She banged it against the door. She waited for several long moments. She considered going back. He wasn't home, she would write him, but just as she had that last thought the door opened, Draco in boxers, and a sleeveless shirt, a white stick in his mouth that she realized was a sucker.

"A sucker," she asked dubiously.

After his shock at seeing her had worn, he laughed, "they say smoking reduces stress, but I hate inhaling smoke in my clean, perfect lungs, so I opted for suckers."

"You know those are a muggle candy."

He popped it out of his mouth. "No wonder they're not any good." His smile faded, becoming increasingly serious. "What are you doing here, Hermione?"

Her name was said with such sweetness that she blushed. "I - I wanted to talk."

"Oh, now you want to?"

"If you don't want to, then fine."

"Bloody hell, don't get all shirty with me, get in here," he held the door open further, and she stepped in.

Like outside, the inside was dark. A black couch, his green walls bare. It was... Cold. She wasn't surprised. He nodded to the couch, and they sat, albeit with much space between them.

He threw the stick onto the coffee table. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"How else would you get out us out of the manor, if you had to do it again?"

He ran a hand through is hair. "Do we have to -"

"Yes," she said forcefully.

"I don't know..."

"It's been over a month. I would have died long ago if you chose to come up with another plan. I would have rather been killed by you, to see your face, than die alone in that room."

He cringed, "don't say that."

"Why not? It's the truth!"

He jumped to his feet rounding on her in fury. "Is this why you came by? To make me feel worse?"

She stood too. "No! I'm here to ask you how badly you want me."

"What does it matter?"

Hermione bit her tongue to keep from screaming. She had gone over this conversation countless times in her head, but it wasn't going at all the way she planned. She knew Draco would be upset, and difficult, but did he really not know what she was trying to say? "If you want me you'll get over this guilt. You saved our lives! I'm right here in front of you! What's wrong with you, Draco?! Why can't you accept the situation as it is?!"

"You're the one who walked away from me this time!"

"You didn't send any of those letters! I would have told you I was pregnant, but how could I when you didn't want me? It's a package deal."

"I know!"

She placed her hands in her pockets, something to keep her from lunging at him. To hug him, or hit him was undecided. She decided to tell him the very thing she promised she wouldn't. Maybe it would help him understand. "You know, I think I truly forgave you in that dungeon. I was second-guessing you the entire time, I was constantly worried you'd go back to your old ways, but… You saved us. I know now more than ever that you're true. Those letters were only words, and your word was the word of someone who intentionally hurt me. Your actions meant much more."

His expression softened as her words were absorbed. "I would never hurt you… Not if I could prevent it."

She beamed. They were getting somewhere. "One last thing… Promise me you won't leave again. I can't handle it if you do." She blinked furiously, her eyes stinging. "I need you."

"I can't do it again if I wanted to. You keep me sane, Hermione. You're the only good in my life."

Hermione smirked sadly. " Love, the greatest gift above the dark clouds, and stars." She repeated his words from that night substituting her name with his, "do you love me, Draco?"

He caught on, and did the same. "Take me home, Hermione. I'm cold." He grabbed her arms pulling her up to him, and stole her mouth. His lips moved against hers, his tongue swiping them. She could have melted right there. It was more amazing than she remembered it being if that were even possible. She leaned into him, but he pulled back, the tip of his nose to hers, his eyes closed. "I love both of you. Greater than the dark clouds, and stars, greater than anything in this mad world."

She tangled her arms around his neck. "Can we tell our child a true story then?"

"Children," he corrected. "I plan on having more than one with you."

They smiled, and he pushed her back onto the couch straddling her. He ran his fingers through her soft hair. It was wild, and unmanageable, but soft. He nipped at her lips, the soft skin under her ear, her collarbone over to her shoulder where he bit harder, almost drawing blood. She slid under his shirt drawing her nails down his sides that would certainly leave marks. They were rough with need, but gentle with care as if the each were made out of glass. It was an odd combination, contradictory, and if they had not experienced it they would think it was impossible.

Later, much later, well after supper, Hermione sent an owl to the Potter's telling them that she wouldn't be home that night.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Beginnings, and Endings

"Bella," Hermione suggested.

Draco made a face. "Bella?!"

"What's wrong with that name?"

"Is our baby a dog?"

She rolled her eyes turning another page in the baby book. The couple sat on Hermione's couch. She laid down her feet on his lap, her head on the armrest rubbing the small bump that was her stomach as she read each name carefully. He had his own book, eyes narrowed in concentration, his hand too on her stomach, running his fingers along the materiel of her top.

It was a week since Hermione moved back to her home from Harry, and Ginny's. Ginny couldn't have been more ecstatic to learn that she didn't take Seamus up on his offer, and Harry seemed to agree.

"Orion," Draco asked.

"No."

"Caelum?"

"No."

"Scorpius?"

"Merlin, no."

"Phoenix?"

She knew he wasn't naming these off of the book he was reading. She sighed, exasperated. "Maybe, but Draco, honestly, are you trying to have our child named after a constellation?"

"Draco's a constellation; I see nothing wrong with it. We like the night, remember?"

"What if the child's a girl?"

"Ara," he stated, not a question

"That's pretty. I like it."

He nodded. "All right, what if it's a boy?"

"Hugo?"

"What's with the dog names, Hermione?"

She huffed indignantly. "Then you name something - and not a constellation."

"You're breaking a tradition."

"Narcissa, and Lucius are not constellations."

"No," he agreed, "but I'm trying to start a tradition here, and you're ruining it." It was his turn to sigh when Hermione didn't say anything. "Dianthus?"

"Dianthus..." She furrowed her brows thoughtfully. "That's odd, what does it mean?"

"It's the formal name of your favorite flower."

She smiled widely. "For a boy?"

"Why not? No one will know what it means, and if they do they have no such business in teasing him about it."

A thought occurred to her. "Do you want a boy, or a girl?"

"A girl," he said without pause. "I'd like to be the one to produce the first Slytherin girl that was cute."

"She'll be Gryffindor."

"Not bloody likely!"

She pulled her book over her face hiding her grin, and the argument died as they searched uselessly for other names they could agree on. It didn't matter if they found one, because they found the ones that they loved. Ara, or Dianthus. She wondered what their friends would think of the names. It abruptly reminded her of something. She wasn't sure why it was drawn to the front of her mind then, buried beneath those horrible memories.

"Zabini said something to me in the chamber..."

Draco put down his book looking at her worriedly. "What's making you think this?"

"Just remembering -"

"Don't -"

"I just want to know, why he told me good luck, that he was sorry, and to forgive him of his wrongs."

Draco smirked. "You speak Italian?" He was impressed.

"How'd you know?"

"Italian is his redemption. His father was an English deatheater, his mum an Italian muggle. He took his mum's last name. His father tried to hide what he was, but when she was killed he fell in deeper, and growing up with him Blaise tried to follow in his footsteps, much like how I tried to do with my father. Blaise can be a cold-hearted basterd, but in Italian, he's himself, without the mask, and the marks." He picked up his book again, but before going back to it said, "don't tell him I told you. He'd cut me up, and feed me to the dragons."

"Your secret's safe with me." She thought of Blaise, young, his mum dead, his father a nightmare. Her respect increased understanding him a little better.

"How do you know Italian," Draco asked.

"Vacation, I studied for months before we went."

"You probably knew more about the Italian culture than the Italian's themselves."

She became a light shade of pink at the compliment. No matter how far they would be in their relationship she would always blush.

Checking her watch she jumped up, laying her book on the coffee table. "Court'll be in session in an hour. Have to get ready," she explained hastily running up the stairs to her room, that was now shared with Draco.

She built up the best defense case for Gypsy, and it was finally the day she would find out if she won. Granted, someone else was delivering it for her. Kingsley believed her to be "too emotionally attached," and so it was handed off to a co-worker. Hermione was upset not to be defending the elf directly, but she had come to be okay with it. She understood it, and in the end all that mattered was Gypsy getting out of that house.

Dressing in her best suit, her hair pulled in a bun she went back downstairs, kissed Draco, and faced the fireplace disappearing in it's blazing depths, a knot forming in her gut as she anxiously thought of the possible outcomes.

Once in the Atrium she hurried under the arch to the lifts. She entered with three other people, only being semi-crowded. By the last floor, she was alone, and she went through the dark halls to the very large room. benches lined the wall going to nearly the ceiling filled with Ministry officials for her department. The ones that would decide Gypsy's fate. The superior at a tall podium shuffling papers, and looking in interest over his square glasses. They made him look like some bug that should be squashed.

Hermione took a seat in the back in the shadows where she couldn't be seen, and waited for the trial to begin.

* * *

Hermione stepped out of the flames. She looked quickly around the lounge for Draco, but didn't see him. She peeked her head into the kitchen, but he wasn't there either. She jogged upstairs sure that he would be there. He wasn't in their bedroom, or their bathroom. She felt a foreboding. What if he left? She tried pushing the negative thoughts out of her mind. She had to trust him again. It would take work, and here was a good example of working at it..

She went down almost every room in her house. The last room down the hall, the guestroom, the door was shut. She didn't remember closing it. She prodded it open, and held a gasp in as she saw the transformed room. Brightly lit candles were littered about the dark room. A few were on the wardrobe, half a dozen on the floor, five on the desk. Draco sat on the edge of the bed, brown guitar in his hold. He had changed into his black jeans, and shirt, but let his fair hair fall, the fringe by his stormy eyes, the firelight dancing over his face happily, casting long shadows.

She approached him in the room where they gave themselves to each other. He began to strum the guitar slowly, his fingers moving along the strings gracefully, knowingly, and then he sung, soft, and low, but clear, and lovely.

"Letters tied with ribbons.

Words of comfort of a trusted companion.

A rare, most beautiful gem,

A rock in the rough,

You polish me making me yours.

Truth be I was yours all along.

Talks of the greatest gifts,

Dreams versus nightmares.

And there's no escaping you.

You creep into my veins, pump through my heart.

Chestnut hair, chocolate eyes,

You're all mine.

My dreams are when I wake,

Seeing your smiling face,

There's no place better than being here with you.

Don't look to the past it holds no reason,

Look to me now.

You're a beautiful gem,

And I'm in the rough.

I swear there's no place better."

Hermione was breathless. It was without question the sweetest song she had ever heard, caressing her senses. She felt it from the inside, and not once did she take her eyes off of him.

He sat the guitar on the floor, leaning it against the bed. He stood in front of her, and gave her a flower that had been behind him, unseen. Once it was in her hands, the petals began to slowly open. She watched in amazement until each were open revealing a silver diamond ring within its folds. She could see that the band was cut into leaves like that of a flower made up of tinier stones of pearl, and sapphire, their birthstones. It was stunning to say the least.

"Marry me," he asked nervously, his voice thick, and barely audible.

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Who are you doing this for, Draco?"

He looked at her confused, then it dawned on him, and he chuckled that sounded more like he was clearing his throat. "For us. Since the day I saw you at the ball I knew I was going to ask you. The baby isn't a reason, or a catalyst, just the most precious bonus I could ask for." He wiped his thumb over her cheek. "Answer my question, Hermione."

She nodded. "Yes," she croaked.

Draco smiled weakly taking the ring out of the flower setting the carnation on the bed, and slipped the ring on her left ring finger, still trembling. He kissed her fingers, and pulled her in by gripping her waist, and the back of her neck. His mouth fell hard on her on in relief, and desire. Happiness swelled in her, filling her to the point that she thought she would burst with it, and set the world on fire.

She had won the case for Gypsy, who had chosen to work for her starting the following week. She came home to get engaged to the last person she'd ever thought she would agree to marry, but loved more than words could say. It was by far the greatest day of her life. Nothing could top this, not until her baby was born. Their baby.

"It all began with letters," she said against his lips.

He didn't move from her, but asked, "what're you going on about, Hermione?"

"That'll be the beginning of our story to our children."

He ran his fingertips over the materiel of her belly attentively, sweeping his lips over hers, and pulled back saying, "a never ending."

"What're you going on about, Draco?"

"That'll be the ending of our story to our children."

"Do you think we'll tell them about our schooldays?"

He laughed deeply, "well, of course, Hermione, that's where it truly began, didn't it? But we'll save that for when they're older. I don't want them knowing I hated their mother so soon."

"Or that I hated their father."

They smiled lightly at their school-day memories as he took her in his arms again. He tugged on the band holding her hair in a ponytail, and let it loose around her shoulders. Mumbling in her neck playfully nipping at it, "finally mine."

A/N: In a second reminder the story has 37 chapters.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

The Wedding

The following day, Hermione attended Ron's going away party for he was leaving the next day for Japan to catch the remaining deatheaters. However the party turned partially into an engagement celebration once Mrs. Weasley caught sight of the ring squealing quite shrill. Hermione didn't want to ruin Ron's party, knowing how he felt in school constantly being overshadowed, but he was too busy threatening Draco's life if he hurt her. Funny thing was, he told this to everyone he crossed, because Draco didn't come saying that he would feel too out of place among a bunch of Gryffindor's. It was just as well, Seamus was there, and he looked ready to kill. He gave his short congratulations leaving quickly. Everyone assured her not to worry about him, and she didn't. If Harry, and Ron could accept it, so could he. Ron was even coming back for a day to be at her wedding.

The next day Hermione, and Draco visited the Granger's to tell them the splendid news. Hermione's mother cried, and her father shook Draco's hand a little too roughly, but they were happy. Hermione's mother even whispered how adorable she thought he was, which took Hermione off-guard.

They talked of the wedding plans good naturally with no arguments. It couldn't have gone better. Well... It could. When Hermione mentioned that they were having the wedding in five days her mother's eyes nearly popped out of her head, exclaiming that wasn't enough time to plan everything. Fortunately, Hermione had magic. She decided that unlike most of her life she was going to make quick decisions, not obsess over anything, and though this was stress unto itself, Draco was there the whole way reminding her of her promise to keep things easy, and simple. Ginny dealt with the invitations, Mrs. Weasley catered, Hermione bought her dress, Draco his dress robe, and so on, Gypsy doing most of the decorating, insisting on it even. She was much happier since being "adopted," by Hermione, and Draco.

Hermione now stood in front of a full length mirror in her bedroom. Like a sheath her cream dress covered her lightly, not showing the very small bump that was her stomach, moving with her, the hem flowing along her matching ballet shoes. Her hair was down brushing her shoulders, a headband made up of white Carnations sat on her head. There was light blush over her cheekbones, a small amount of eyeliner.

"You're absolutely beautiful, Hermione," her mother gushed.

"Thanks, mum."

She was surrounded by the women she loved most in her life. Her mother, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny. They all rushed about the room helping her dress, and things were suddenly calm. She was getting married, she thought she might be sick, her stomach churning horribly.

There was a soft knock at the door. It was almost not heard, but Ginny opened it, and her face immediately paled, "Mrs. Malfoy."

Hermione felt the color draining from her own face, as she saw Draco's mother at the door. Her hair near black, her features pale, and pointed like her son's, but gaunt, and underfed. She was skinny, and Hermione had the urge to feed her something before she withered away.

"This must be Hermione Granger, the woman my son has become so in love with," she said as a statement, not in a way of a compliment.

She stood there wishing she could disappear, but then, without warning, Mrs. Malfoy hugged her kindly, released her holding onto her shoulders like a vice.

"You are stunning. It is no wonder my son loves you."

"Th-thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Cissy. You'll call me Cissy."

"Cissy..."

"Good girl," she dropped her arms. "I apologize for my lateness."

"That's quite all right, you're here now. Have you seen Draco?"

Mrs. Malfoy gave a crooked smile. "Yes, he's quite nervous. Keeps fidgeting with his lapel. Ripped it once, Potter helped him repair it."

Hermione thought for a moment. "Where's Zabini?" Zabini had been chosen for Draco's best man. He remained indifferent to Hermione, but she didn't care, because Draco had someone. All he had anymore was her, Zabini, and his mother, and she looked like she was about to drop dead any minute.

"Getting him ginger ale, his stomach is a bit upset."

Hermione supposed that he wretched, much like she had that morning, but while hers was morning sickness, his was merely nerves. It might not be so for long; she was beginning to feel like she would be sick from the knots her gut was forming.

"Oh, it's really happening," she breathed. Ginny took her by the shoulders sitting her gently in the desk chair. "I'm getting married."

There was yet another knock at the door, and Ron's head poked through. "We're heading up to the alter..." He caught sight of Hermione trailing his sentence off. "Hermione? You all right there?"

"She just realized she's getting married," Ginny explained.

"It's hitting Malfoy too. Hermione, you don't have to go through with this, you know. You can back out now, no one will judge you."

"I'm going through with this, Ron," she snapped. "I'm just nervous is all."

Harry's head appeared over his best mates shoulder. "What's taking so long?"

"Hermione's having second thoughts," Ron answered, almost happily.

"I'm not having second thoughts!" Hermione felt her nerves wracking. She had to calm down, she didn't want to be taken to St. Mungo's on her wedding day. What a memory that would be.

Harry pushed by Ron, and knelt in front of his friend taking her hands. "Are you okay," he said the words slowly, and carefully.

"Yes, I'm fine, Harry. Honestly, weren't you nervous at all?"

"Terrified. So was Ginny. This is normal."

She nodded. She knew this. "Go up to the alter. Bring my father up here will you?"

"He's waiting downstairs for you. You ready?"

"Am I?"

He looked her over, "yes. You look beautiful."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant, and my answer is the same."

She wrung her hands in her lap. "You'll still be there, won't you? You, and Ron?"  
Ron looked taken-aback. "Where do you think we're going?"

"Hermione, we're not leaving. Ever. You're stuck with us. If Voldemort couldn't tear us apart, Malfoy sure can't," Harry chuckled.

Hermione hugged each of them in turn, silently begging her tears to remain at bay. She had a whole wedding to get through, and she couldn't start crying then.

Once they left outside, she walked down to her kitchen where her father waited by the door. He took one look at her, and inhaled sharply, smiling proudly, tears welling in eyes that matched her own.

"Ready," he asked.

"Yes," she said surely.

He held out his arm, and she looped her own through it. The music started outside, not the usual wedding march, but something that for the life of her she couldn't remember. She barely heard it. With ease they walked out into the cool air, fall already having approached them. Orange, and yellow leaves covered the ground, like paint splashing a green canvas adding color, and life. White wicker chairs were set up into two separate groups making an aisle to the alter, but it did not matter who sat where, there weren't enough of them to care.

The whole way there, which felt like forever, instead of a short walk Hermione focused on Draco, and he focused on her. Neither of them smiled, too nervous to notice that they weren't, until her father kissed her cheek, and let her go. Draco took her hand, sweaty, and constricting, and they stood in front of Kingsley. They laughed suddenly at their worries, and a ripple of chuckles went through the small crowd.

Kingsley began speaking, but she didn't hear a word, she repeated her vows, took Draco's ring from Ginny sliding it over his finger, but it was all done like she was on auto-pilot. She wondered if Draco was feeling the same as he placed the wedding band next to her engagement ring. It was a liberation when the Minister pronounced them man, and wife. Draco sighed brashly, taking her in his arms, and snogging her hard like he had waited an eternity to do so. They didn't hear the clapping, or the congratulations as they ran down the aisle.

They ducked into the kitchen, where they let everyone else clean up, and apparate over to the Burrow where they were having their reception. It took two full days to convince Draco to let Mrs. Weasley do this for them. It would have taken longer if the wedding hadn't been close, and she hadn't threatened to transform him permanently into a pet ferret, something he didn't appreciate one bit.

Once the door was closed Draco started unbuttoning his coat, untucking his dress shirt, and loosening his tie. Hermione stared incredulous.

"What," he asked, unaware of what she was thinking.

"Wait until we get there. I don't want them thinking that we - you know - did something."

He rolled his eyes. "We're married, I can take you on that table right there, and they would just have to deal. Let them think what they want. Don't you want to be more comfortable?"

"I am. Slippers are much more practical."

"You didn't wear slippers," he said unbelieving.

She lifted the hem of her dress, showing them off. "I wasn't going to have my feet hurting all day." Before she could look up, she was pushed against the table, Draco's hands on her hips lifting her on top of it.

"Draco, what're -" Her mouth was clamped shut by his. She was lost in it in for a long moment, his tongue running along her lips. "We can't," she mumbled. The others were waiting, it was rude to let them do so.

He sniggered running his lips down her neck. "We're not. I just wanted to get a taste before tonight." He backed away, lifting her down casting curious looks at her.

"What?"

"Just came to me... You're a Malfoy."

Hermione nodded, "I guess I am."

"Come on, Mrs. Malfoy. Lets get to the party."

Through the lounge, and into the fireplace, they re-emerged into the Weasley's home. It was a comfortable place. The couch worn, the wood flooring faded, and the curtains only slightly moth eaten. Draco had seen the place once when they came to let Mrs. Weasley show them the backyard giving them her ideas. He hadn't said a word then, and he didn't know, but Hermione could tell that he was thinking of poverty jokes. Zabini was right on some level, about people not changing. At the end of the day Draco was still Draco, and she didn't mind that one bit.

They went out to the backyard to a round of applause. She was hugged from everyone, Ginny after taking in Draco's ruffled attire said in undertone so that only Hermione could hear, "just couldn't wait for the honeymoon."

"That is _not_ what happened," Hermione said at once, but Ginny wasn't listening distracted by George's own, but much louder jokes. Hermione became a deep shade of crimson.

A few tables were set beside a long buffet table, all draped in red, and silver. Music emitted from the shed. With numerous drinks, food, and music they ate, drink, and danced into the night. Dusk had long past, and George's last fireworks were still lighting up the sky. Green, white, scarlet, and gold that spilled like a fountain, a green snake curling up around a red lion, and the last ones that fizzed until dawn.

As she danced her last one of the night with Draco, Hermione saw in the distance, far in the dark at the last of the tables was Seamus with a bottle of fire whiskey. He held it up in a way of saying "cheers," and took a long swig. He was coping, but he had come, and for this Hermione grinned, and mouthed, "thank you."


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Broken

The week-long honeymoon in Glasgow, Scotland was over. A day after she got back, she went to the Potter's to tell Ginny that she was right, it was a beautiful place, but she was anxious all the same to get back to work. With the ball, kidnapping, and marriage she had barely been working, and she re-took all of her cases immediately upon return. She couldn't be more grateful that Draco unpacked all of his boxes, and put things away, in order, and neatly by himself.

It was Draco's idea that he move into her place. His home, or house rather, was barely lived in. It was cold, and it never felt like home to him, nothing had, except the short time he spent at her place. He was able to move all of his things in one day, and the next he put them away. Hermione made minor changes, such as putting the books in alphabetical order instead of by publishing date that Draco had set. Why he did that, she didn't know, nor did she ask.

Four months later on one particular night they watching television, a past-time that Draco had become accustomed to. He was amazed by the box with the moving pictures. First he was horrified thinking she had trapped people in there. It took her a good five minutes to stop laughing. That night they were watching his favorite police series, cuddled closely on the couch, his hand resting on her stomach, when suddenly they bolted up into a sitting position.

"It kicked!"

Hermione chortled happily. "It did," she felt the little life in her poking her with its elbow.

"It's real..." Draco kept his hand on her belly.

"Of course it is! Are you just now realizing that?"

He turned a light shade of pink. "Yeah... I am."

"Are you okay?"

He smiled comfortingly. "I've never been happier..."

"Do you want to know the sex?"

His smile faded a little. "I don't know... Do you?"

"No... I like to be surprised."

"That makes one of us, but perhaps it'll be better this way."

"Why's that?"

"Come, I'll show you."

Hermione let Draco help her from the couch, and she followed him up the stairs that was getting harder to walk up. Soon she would be sleeping on the couch. He went down the hall, and stopped outside the guest room. When she reached him, he threw open the door, and she gasped.

A white cot, a rocker, a changing table, a bookcase, a beige carpet, and bright green walls were the first things that she saw. There was a mobile over the cot that gently spun lions, and snakes. In the cot was a stuffed lion, and snake, and a small quilt, and pillow. The curtains over the windows were a crisp white. She touched everything, lingering around the room. She read the titles on the bookshelf. There was a mixture of muggle, and wizard stories. It was all neutral, no matter if they had a boy, or girl it would fit both.

"It's lovely. You did all of this?"

He smirked, "had to do something all those nights you were staying late at work."

"I love it... This is amazing..." She turned finding Draco staring at her with real interest. "What is it?"

"Thank you."

She smiled, "for what?"

"For writing me back."

"In that case I should thank you, and not just for the room."

"This room is for our baby, and I'm its father, it's my duty to set a suitable home for it. Now that's settled, why is it that you need to thank me?"

"For writing me in the first place." She held his eyes for several long moments, and when Draco went to take a step towards her -

"Master Draco, Mistress Hermione!" Gypsy came running up to them panting.

Hermione went over to the elf. "Gypsy, calm down, and please stop calling us master, and mistress, use our names."

"Sorry..."

"Never mind that," Draco said, "what's wrong?"

"You got a letter!" Gypsy held out an envelope with long bony fingers. "It was addressed to both of you, from your mother, Mas - Draco. Gypsy took it right up here!"

Draco took the letter ripping it open, and scanning the page. He looked suddenly grave, and threw it down grabbing Hermione. She didn't have a chance to ask what was in it before she got the feeling that she was being sucked through a small tube. When they apparated into the Manor she didn't have a chance to catch her breath, she was immediately hit with deja vu. A horrible nightmare that she was forced to revisit. All those memories came flooding back.

"Draco," she cried in protest.

"Mother," was all he said, not realizing that his wife was nearing a melt down. He tried dragging her towards the grand staircase to the left of the lounge, but her feet were glued to the cherry wood flooring, and she refused to move. "What -" He saw her sweaty, pale face. "Hermione... I'm sorry, but we have to go now. Mother is..." He apparated them again, and they were in a grand bedroom with expensive dark wood furniture. The main focus was the huge bed in which laid a very frail figure.

Narcissa looked worse than she did at the wedding. Her face was sunken in further, her bones visible through the thin layer of skin. Hermione understood. She was dying, and tonight was destined to be her last. The Manor, and its horrors drifted away then.

Draco let go of Hermione's hand, and knelt next to his mother taking hers. "How are you feeling, mother?"

She tried to smile, but it faltered. She looked to Hermione. "Come here, my daughter." Her voice sounded as dry as the Sahara desert.

Hermione grinned at being called her daughter, and went to stand beside Draco. She was shocked when Narcissa removed her hand from her sons, and moved it over the bump of Hermione's stomach. It was not like Narcissa had never done it before, but she was astounded at how thin her hand was compared to last time. It was like a skeleton.

"Tell my grandchild about me..."

Hermione felt a burning in her eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed uncomfortably. "I will tell it about its wonderful, kind grandmother that loved it before it was even born. It will know you through us."

Narcissa beamed. "Thank you... I'm sorry for everything..."

"You gave me your son. We'll call it even."

Narcissa placed her palm on Draco's wet cheek. "Take good care of them. I could never control you, or your father's actions, but please, don't leave again, Draco. You finally have the life I wished for you, and you're happy, I can see that. Let yourself be."

Draco nodded. "I promise."

"I love you. All three of you."

"We love you too, mother," his voice broke, equivalent to how he had to feel inside.

Slowly, Narcissa's eyes closed. The steady, shallow breathing stopped. Draco's mother was gone.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Draco's Secret

Hermione bustled around in the kitchen as Draco sat solemnly at the table. She didn't know what to expect from him. He had lost his mother, but how did he react to such things? Even he wouldn't know, because he had never been through it before - losing a loved one. Hermione had lost her grandparents years ago - she had lost many friends through the war, so she knew only a fraction, but she was at a lost on how to comfort him. She couldn't comfort Harry, and he was the worst when he was grieving. He was violent, angry, and distant. Ginny seemed to be the only one to draw him out of it.

The strong scent of tea wafted through the kitchen. It was not as comforting as Hermione would have liked it to be, but she didn't know of what else to do. She had in-directly inherited the nature from Mrs. Weasley. Or it could have been Ron, he did the same thing when someone was upset. She set the cups on the table, one in front of Draco, another at the end of the table where she sat.

Being off her feet was ecstasy. The funeral was short to say the least. There were not many people who wanted to turn up to the funeral of a deatheaters wife. Harry, and Ginny made an appearance to be supportive. Something that Hermione had intensely needed. Zabini of course showed up. He was the only one to make a speech. Hermione wanted to, but she couldn't, it was too emotional, and in some sense inappropriate for she didn't know Narcissa long. She remembered Zabini's speech fresh in her mind.

"Diamo noi stessi via alle aspettative, ferito, e le prove. Noi abbiamo su questi sentimenti come un conforto, un ultimo emoion prima che i nostri morti. Narcissa Malfoy gettato via tutto. Il suo passato è sbiadito, come è lei, ma, se ci sforziamo per ciò che ha realizzato nessuno di noi muore invano." _We give ourselves away to expectations, hurt, and trials. We hold onto these feelings like a comfort, a last emotion before our deaths. Narcissa Malfoy threw it all away. Her past is faded as is she, but if we strive for what she accomplished none of us will die in vain,_ she translated in her head.

She looked up at Draco. She didn't know if he knew what Zabini said. She didn't know if he spoke Italian, he never told her. She was sure he did, but even so, it did not matter at the funeral. He was in a zombie-like daze the entire time. He wouldn't talk with her. He barely looked at her since Narcissa's death.

A fear was growing rapidly in her gut. What if Draco left her again, despite what his mother last told him? She didn't know if she could handle that again.

"Draco," she asked unsure.

He didn't answer, staring intently at his tea.

She went on. "I know this is hard for you -"

"You don't know anything, Hermione," he snapped. "You still have your parents."

"I didn't mean -"

Shards bounced from the wall, and tea gathered on the floor in puddles, spraying her black dress in the process. Draco had thrown his cup, and the chair was now toppled on the floor. He was standing slamming his hands on the table. It shook dangerously. "I know what you meant," he screamed. "Just stop it, all right?! You think you understand everything - you think you know everything, but you don't! You're drawing my feelings from what you've _read_. You didn't have the life I had, don't try to think you know what it was like!"

"I'm not -"

"Shut up, Granger! Shut your _mudblood_ mouth up! For Merlin's sake you can't ever shut up!"

One drop. One insignificant drop fell down her cheek. "Zabini was right," she whispered.

"Speak up!"

Hermione felt an unexpected rage. She stood as quickly as she could with the extra weight of the baby, and said in a calm voice that was borderline eerie. "I said Zabini was right."

"Care to elaborate?"

"In the chamber he told me people don't change. Draco do you even know what you just called me?"

He didn't seem to understand, but then his expression dropped, and he ran a quivering hand through his hair making it stick up in odd places. He started shaking all over. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I - I didn't mean that. I don't know why I said it..."

"Old habits die hard."

"That's no excuse, and you know it. I'm so sorry."

She shifted on her feet. They were hurting more than they were earlier. She was lethargic, but more so she didn't want to say anything she would regret. She wanted to kick him out, but it would be terrible to do so after his mother's funeral. She couldn't let herself get that angry - though her blood was nearly boiling. They weren't sleeping together anyhow since Hermione had become to heavy to make it up the stairs. The couch was more convenient, and there was a bathroom nearby. She hated stairs.

"I'm going to the loo." She had to get away. she thought quickly, and went down the short hall beside the staircase. There was a lavatory at the end. It was small, and under-decorated in yellow, and blue that included the tiles on the floor, and wall.

"Gypsy," she uttered quietly.

There was a pop, an the elf stood in front of her proudly. "Hermione called Gypsy?"

"Yes, Gypsy, I need you to do me a favor, and do not tell Draco about this."

"Gypsy lives to serve! How can I help?"

"Go to the Potter's, and tell Ginny to pick me up as soon as possible. Got that?"

"On my way, Hermione!" The elf popped out.

Hermione ran the tap in case Draco decided to listen, and she waited. She sat on the floor, her back against the tub. She didn't want to go out, and face Draco. They needed space. If he called her that foul name again... She wanted to leave, not for good, not yet. She was hurting, and she was fighting it as well as she fought the curses Lucius, and Bellaxtrix threw at her.

A good five minutes later there was a soft knock at the door. She sat quietly, unsure if it was Ginny, or Draco.

"Hermione," Ginny's soft voice filtered through.

Hermione stood, and let her in. They were silent for a moment. "Can I stay at your place for a little while?"

Ginny nodded, and took her hand. "Ready?"

This struck Hermione as odd. Ginny didn't want to know what happened? She was usually dying to find out everything she could. What if something was wrong at the Potter's? She could be intruding. Now that she looked at her, really looked at her, Ginny looked worried. Stressed. That wasn't like her one bit, Ginny was never stressed if not for good reason.

Knowing her almost as well as herself, Ginny said, "I know what happened..."

"How?"

"You'll see."

Hermione held tight to Ginny, whispering, "okay, ready," and felt herself drawn inside a tight compartment. It was hard to breath for a moment, and then their surroundings changed. They were in Harry, and Ginny's lounge.

There was something different, Hermione felt it immediately. It was darker, and quieter. Something was out of place, something that shouldn't have been there.

Harry sat on the couch waiting for them. Then there was someone she didn't expect to see in the Potter's household. The last person she would expect.

"Zabini? What're you doing here," Hermione blurted out.

Blaise Zabini stood leaning against the wall next to the fireplace, a smile playing on his face. She wanted to knock it right off. She looked over at Harry, expecting to see bruises, cuts, something, but he was fine. He nodded towards Zabini, an act that told her to listen what he had to say.

"Draco being a prat?"

She felt angry. "His mother just died, he has every right -" She stopped herself, took a breath, and began again. "He's not being a prat!"

"Don't stand there, and lie to me, Granger. I know my best mate, and I know he's said hurtful things to you. He's being a git. He _is_ a git."

"Everyone handles this in their own way. You have no right to assume -"

"I'm not assuming," he interrupted. "I know."

"He's never lost anyone before -"

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes!" She wasn't sure. He never mentioned anyone else though... Nothing about grandparents, or friends. Zabini was his only true friend, and he was obviously alive. "Yes," she said again, certainty in her syllable.

Zabini shook his head as if it was the most pathetic thing he ever saw. "Has he ever mentioned Ara?"

Something jerked inside Hermione's stomach, and it wasn't the baby. Ara was the name he suggested if their child was a girl. "Who's Ara?"

"Draco's baby sister."

A/N: As you can probably guess things are going to start to get dramatic again. There is a reason that this story is listed under "drama." There's a lot of it. I assure you though that it won't last forever. The ending will be a sort of calm.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

The Pictures

"You're lying," Hermione accused.

"Let's get some perspective here before we continue with this riveting conversation. I've known Draco longer than you have. I know about his family. Hell, I was there when his sister died."

That sickening spinning in her head started again. Luckily Ginny saw this, and sat her on the couch next to Harry. Draco had a sister... She couldn't wrap her mind around that. Why wouldn't he tell her? All those letters he could have confided in, and he didn't. He told her all those useless things about him playing guitar, when his birthday was, his favorite color, but never once did he bother to write about her.

Zabini continued. "From the second she was born Lucius became protective. He shielded her from a lot. She lived to be nine, and if you asked her then about dark arts, and the dark lord, she wouldn't know what you were talking about. Lucius didn't want her to become a deatheater because of how females are treated... They are expected to be as tough as the men… He hid Ara from Voldemort quite successfully for a long time, but nothing gets by Voldemort for long..."

"H-he killed her?" Hermione knew the answer to this, but she had to hear it for it to be evident.

"Yes, he tortured, and killed her in front of Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco as an example of what happens when someone lies to him. Draco was pushed into the dark arts more than ever after that." The corner of his mouth curled up evilly, "do you think Draco wrote you just because his mum asked him? He felt just as bad about it. That night in the Manor was a reminder to him of what happened to his sister. He had to set right by it, because of his sister. It had nothing to do with you. You were a catalyst. Pure happenstance that he fell for you -"

"That's enough, Zabini," Harry yelled putting his arms around Hermione that was shaking much to her realization. She had no idea that she was doing so. Her eyes, and cheeks were wet. She was crying, and she buried her face in Harry's shirt. She wanted Zabini to go away.

"What are you doing here, anyway," Ginny asked.

There was a malicious flash in his eyes. "I knew that Draco would hurt her. I came here to tell her the truth. I should be thanked."

Hermione shoved Harry back, and stood to her feet. Like the strike of a match sadness turned to anger. Fire was in her eyes as she stared at Zabini. He backed against the wall nervously. "Perché siete davvero qui?" _Why are you really here?_

"Si parla italiano." _You speak Italian._

"Grande lavoro in cui si sottolinea l'ovvio. Perché stai qui? Se non si riesce a dirmi in inglese, mi dicono in italiano." _Great job pointing out the obvious. Why are you here? If you can't tell me in English, tell me in Italian._

"Draco è morto per dirvi ..." _Draco's dead for telling you._ Zabini rolled his eyes, and sighed. "Egli è il mio amico ... Egli ti ama, e contrariamente alla credenza popolare Io non odio. Amo che lo rendono più felice di quello che mai è stato o sarà, ma non essere leale a voi. Egli conosce il tuo incubi, ma conosci solo a metà del suo. È per questo che sono qui. Draco è il mio fratello, che ti fa mia sorella e io cura di voi, anche a lui." _He's my friend... He loves you, and contrary to popular belief I don't hate you. I love that you make him happier than he ever has been, or will be, but he's not being fair to you. He knows your nightmares, but you only know half of his. That's why I'm here. Draco's my brother, which makes you my sister, and I will look after you, even to him._

Hermione felt tears well up. Behind her she heard Ginny, and Harry talking.

"What in the hell are they saying," Harry whispered.

"No idea..."

Hermione pursed her lips, and rushed to Zabini embracing him, lying her head on his chest. He was slow to hold her, but he did running his hand along her wild hair. "Why didn't he tell me," she rasped.

"He wants to forget."

"I want to see her. Narcissa had pictures, right?"

Zabini frowned. "Yeah..."

"Show me."

"They're in the Manor. Entering there would be a breaking a law, Granger."

She rolled her eyes impatiently. "I own it - Draco, and I share everything. Take me."

"Fine, but if he catches us, you're on your own."

"Fine," she looked to Ginny, and Harry. "I'll be back."

Zabini took her hand, and they apparated. The tunnel spun around her in a whirl of color. She closed her eyes against it until she felt her feet make contact with something solid. They stood in the lounge, the size tripling her own, or rather her, and Draco's.

"Stay here," he ordered.

"Why?"

"They're in the drawing room. I don't think you want to revisit it?"

"No, go on, I'll wait."

Like a sly cat he slipped into one of the arched double doors behind them. She looked away, not wanting to see any part of the room of her nightmares. She took in the large stone fireplace, the grand stairs, cherry wood flooring, the black leather couch, and high ceiling. It was cold as if the little warmth it once carried died with Narcissa. She concentrated on the scuffs of her worn trainers. She didn't look when she heard the small click announcing the door opening.

"Here they are," Zabini handed her a small stack of pictures.

Hermione held the carefully, her fingers along the outer edges. Like all wizarding pictures they were moving. The first one showed a little girl with long white blond hair, gray eyes, delicate fingers clutched around a brown teddy bear. She grinned warmly at the camera before laughing, running back into what Hermione recognize as the backyard where the Manor couldn't be seen. It was the same spot Draco took Hermione. She knew this somehow.

In the next one was a small version of Draco, and the same girl. His arm was slung over her shoulder protectively. They stood in front of a beautiful garden of yellow, and pink flowers. She was holding the same bear.

He must have been at most two years old, holding a bald infant in what looked like a white room of St. Mungo's. He was beaming down at her, then up at the camera.

There was a fir tree beautifully decorated in gold in the background, mountains of presents under it, yet it looked like a great deal had already been unwrapped. Crinkled paper piled around the two siblings, Ara being what she guessed a year old. Draco handed her a box where she took out a stuffed bear. She hugged her big brother tightly holding the bear to her chest.

A sudden pop drew Hermione's attention from the pictures to the direction of the noise. Beside the couch stood Draco, and her stomach dropped. He stared at her. Confusion turned to realization at the sight of Zabini, the pictures in her grasp, and then turned to anger.

"How dare you," Draco spat at Zabini.

Zabini held up his hands in defense. "Look, mate, she deserved to know -"

"And that was your place to decide?"

His hands dropped to his sides, clenching into fists. "It was yours when you decided to tell her about my mother!"

Draco rounded on her. "You told him I told you!"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but he went on, his voice cold as ice dripping down her spine.

"I thought I could trust you. You betrayed me!"

"Lay off, Draco. We've all broken promises here," Zabini pointed out.

"I'll never forgive you for this," he seethed at Hermione.

"Oy," Zabini called. "If anyone needs forgiving it's you. You're the one who hid this from her.'

"Ara was none of her concern."

"So you didn't think I would care," she cried. "How could you not tell me? Of all the things you said in your letters -"

"Shut up!"

In the span of a blink Zabini brought out his wand, and Draco did the same. "You will not talk to her that way!"

"She's my wife, I'll talk to her any way I please."

This time Hermione drew her wand, tears stinging, burning streaks down her cheeks. "I love you," she wept, "but I don't love the old you, and that's what you're becoming again. If this is the way you're going to be I don't want you."

His sneered, "we're married."

"Divorce is easy, Draco. I won't be treated this way, I won't have my child put through this -"

"Our child!"

"Mine! It doesn't need _you_, Malfoy, there are plenty of father figures around. It'll have Harry, and Ron. It'll have Seamus."

"It'll have me," Zabini said softly.

Draco shot daggers. "You two wouldn't do this to me!"

"What's wrong with you," Hermione screamed.

Zabini held his wand steady, not lowering it. "I understand your mother died, mate, but you're taking this too far. Deal with the facts."

"I'm an orphan! I've lost everything," Draco yelled.

"You have her! You have a baby on the way! Don't you fucking tell me you don't have anything, you have everything. You're the luckiest bastard ever."

"Why are you doing this?" Despair dripped from Hermione's lips, sorrow from her eyes.

"I know damn well you weren't raised this way," Zabini added. "You were taught to respect women, you're mother would be ashamed of you!"

Light exploded in the room from Draco's wand, and Zabini was thrown across the room. He slid across the floor until he hit the wall. He laid crumpled on the floor, his wand a foot away. Hermione shoved her wand in her pocket, and picked up his with much effort, and dropped slowly to her knees beside him, her back aching.

"I'm all right," Zabini grunted.

She chanced a look over her shoulder. Her husband hadn't moved, his wand still directed at his best mate. She stared at his careless features, and she didn't see her husband. She saw Malfoy, the arrogant boy she knew in Hogwarts.

At that moment a small figure came running into the room with a feather duster. Gypsy had been cleaning the manor as Draco instructed her to still do despite Hermione's objections, but now she was grateful. Gypsy's big round eyes traveled from Draco with his wand, to Hermione on the floor by Zabini. She squeaked.

"Order her to come here, "Zabini croaked.

"Gypsy, please come here," Hermione asked politely.

"Stay, Gypsy," Draco countered.

Gypsy was moving to Hermione when she stopped. After a second's thought she stood next to her. "Gypsy has a debt, Draco. Hermione saved Gypsy's life."

Draco was livid. He opened his mouth to argue, but Zabini cut across him.

"Take my hand," he demanded. "Both of you."

Hermione, and Gypsy did as he told, and Hermione felt them being apparated away in Gypsy's care, leaving Draco in shock.

A/N: I know this chapter shows a horrible side of Draco, but this is how I imagined his anger at losing what he would assume the last of his family. Right then he was seeing red, and reacting all on of his old instincts.

I do apologize for using so much Italian (personality wise it was right to do), and I like to point out again that it's all from a translator, because unfortunatly I don't speak a word of the beautiful language.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Nothing To Hide

Hermione's surroundings cleared. She sat in what looked like the lounge of room in an expensive hotel. There was a white couch, white walls with painted pictures of wine, and vineyards. There was a door to her right that was open, and inside she could see a large tub, everything also in white. Behind her was another door, where she spotted a huge bed covered in plum blankets, and pillows.

At her knees Zabini growled. "Stupid, insufferable man." He held his head.

"Are you all right?"

"Ducky."

"Very funny," she muttered. "Where are we?"

"Italy; my hotel."

"Your hotel?"

"I bought it a couple of years ago. Help me up, Granger, I don't feel well. Get me to the bed."

Hermione took out her wand, and levitated him to the bedroom, lying him gently on top of the covers Gypsy a little dazed followed. As he grimaced in pain when laid down, she left to find a cloth in the loo. She held it under the cold tap, and went back folding it, lying it on his forehead.

He cracked open a dark eye at her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome... Do you need anything else? I can send someone for a potion."

"No, I'm fine. It's a muggle establishment anyway..."

"Muggle?" She was amused.

"Yes... Another secret of mine..."

"Does Draco know?"

"No. Only you."

"Why?"

"Don't ask me questions, Granger, my head hurts."

She smiled, and turned to the little elf. "Go on home, Gypsy. I'll take it from here, and you have my permission to hex Draco if he hurts you. You're free to stay if you like."

Gypsy grinned. "That's very nice of you, but Gypsy will see to Draco." In a sharp crack like a whip she was gone.

Hermione sat in the velvet chair beside the bed, running her hand along her belly. Lies, and secrets. She found out so much in twenty-four hours she wanted to scream some more. She wanted to cry for the loss of her mother in-law, and her husband. She wanted to grieve for the grandmother, and father her baby lost. She couldn't. Her eyes were dry, and she was calm. She was foolish to think she could have a future with a man that had hurt her more than he had in school. For the smartest witch of the age, she wasn't being very smart lately.

"You're beautiful."

Hermione glanced over. He was watching her. "Thanks, Zabini."

"It's Blaise."

"Thanks, Blaise."

He turned his head gazing up at the ceiling. "All that time was lost... Fighting over blood, and status, thinking that there was only power. It was nonsense. If none of it had mattered Lucius would be sane, Narcissa might've never became ill. You, and Draco might've been together long ago. We would've had our friends. No one would have died. All that time lost..." He looked back to her. "People do change, Granger. It happens. They don't change for anyone but themselves, that's where true change comes from. Draco changed when he watched you in the drawing room he couldn't stomach it. Literally, after you left he told he wretched something terrible. He didn't love you, or like you. Watching you made him remember his sister is all. He started loving you in those letters. He still loves you. He's angry - upset, he's lost the only good people in his childhood. Put aside your baby, he's the last in his line, and that makes him feel alone."

Hermione nodded. "You're speaking in English," she noted.

He smiled, a real smile. It was nice. "I have nothing to hide from you anymore, Granger."

"Hermione."

"Hermione," he said. "Come lay by me."

Her eyes widened, scandalized at what he suggested.

"That's not what I meant. Just come here, please."

Hesitantly she stood up with some difficulty, and crawled into bed beside him, leaving a good distance between them. He scooted closer, and grabbed her hand.

"It _was_ my right to show you those pictures; to tell you about her."

She turned her head facing him. "How do you figure?"

He copied her actions. "Ara was as good as my sister as she was Draco's. Our families have been friends for years. We can't be any closer if we were brothers. I love Ara as much as he does. After the dark lord killed her... I didn't care to be a deatheater, but it was expected, so I didn't try to climb the ladder, or get too close. He would feel my hatred for him, or my care for a blood traitor."

"Who?"

"Weasley... It's Potter now, but... All the same."

"Ginny," she gasped.

"Fiery little red head. Gorgeous. That war at Hogwarts... I tried keep an eye on her, but it wasn't necessary. She was amazing. She was always Potter's though. Never mine. Couldn't be." He sighed. "Draco, and me never did deserve you two. He has you though." He touched the draconis necklace that laid against her shoulder.

"For now," she mumbled.

He squeezed her hand. "We can stay here for as long as you want. We don't have to leave."

"I have to go back."

"No you don't. You can live here for all I care. Move your things in, the place is yours. I don't have to be here if you don't want me."

She smiled sadly. "That is so sweet of you -"

"Jeez, Hermione, don't say that loudly, people will think it's true."

"It is."

"No one has to know that."

She laughed. She could stay there. She could be in Italy, raise her child, never have to see or hear from Draco again. "I can't stay here. I have to go back sometime. I want my child to know my parents, and friends."

He looked concerned. "You didn't mention Draco."

Her eyes stung again. "He called me a mudblood, Blaise. He hasn't called me that in four years..."

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. He breathed into her orchid smelling hair, "he really did hurt you, didn't he?"

She cried into his chest, his shirt balled into her fist. She was holding on as tight as she could, she didn't want to let go. If she let go she might fall. "I don't care about being called a mudblood. That doesn't matter - I'm proud of who I am. I have the best of both worlds, but... I can't stand to see that side of him. It was like we were back in school. He hated me."

"He doesn't hate you," he soothed. "That man is crazy over you."

"I don't want to go back... Not yet, but I don't want to be alone."

He leaned back looking in her eyes. "I'll stay with you."

"Your job..."

"I'm the boss, they'll be glad to get rid of me."

"I might stay a while..."

"Stay forever if you want."

She pushed, his slight grip sliding to her sides. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Maybe I have a past to make up for too."

"Not to me."

"No, but I do for Ara. We let it happen, we lost her because of fear."

Hermione held him, and as he buried his face in her neck, she felt his tears. She let her own fall holding each other close. She thought of how much Blaise was like Draco, but calmer. She wasn't thinking about the position - in bed - with another man... She would feel guilt in the morning, but for the moment they would comfort each other. Like Ron, Harry, and her had done for each other during the search for the Horucruxes.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

The Book

The sun's rays spilled through the window. Hermione groaned as it brought her out of her slumber. She felt the soft blanket beneath her. The scent of lavender fabric softener, and cologne. She didn't recognize that cologne... It wasn't Draco's. She glimpsed beside her at a dark skinned, dark haired, handsome man. Blaise. With his arm loosely over her waist. Shame submerged her.

As cautiously as she could she slipped out from under his arm. _Nothing happened_, she thought to herself. _Nothing happened! We fell asleep._ She ran into the bathroom, locking herself in. There was nothing wrong with what she did... Was there? She rubbed her tired face. No, there wasn't. She had done the same with Harry, and Ron during the war, sometimes afterwards to survive the nightmares, and after she escaped the Manor for the second time in her life. What occurred last night was no different. They were only comforting each other, nothing more.

A sharp knock broke her of her thoughts. "Hermione? You okay in there?"

"Yes," she answered, her voice only slightly shaky.

"Come out of there, I want to talk to you."

Hermione smoothed down her hair that was sticking up in odd places. Her color was a bit off, but there was nothing to do about that then. She opened the door. Blaise stood there, his hair messy too. He was still in yesterday's attire, black slacks, and a white button shirt.

"You look like hell," Blaise commented.

"Good morning to you too."

"Take this." He pitched a small black jingling bag at her, which Hermione caught against her chest.

She peeked into the pouch, and saw at least five handfuls of galleons. "Wow," she exhaled.

"I want you to explore the city. Go anywhere you want to, buy whatever you like."

"I don't want your money," she shoved the bag into his hand. "I have my own."

"That is currently in a Gringotts vault, I reckon. Just take it, I don't need it. It won't be missed."

"Are you going back?"

Blaise laughed. "Right, and risk my life... Draco'll kill me for this. I'm going to a meeting I've set up here. There are some changes I'd like to make. I'll be gone all morning, so you'll have to entertain yourself."

She grinned. "That's fine, Blaise, I get the impression that you're not very good company."

"Funny..."

She suddenly frowned. "You remind me of Draco."

He grimaced. "Don't say that woman! That's the worst insult you can pay me!"

"I don't think so..."

"No, you're right, calling me a ferret would be the worst insult."

"Same thing."

He chuckled, and said, "goodbye, Hermione. Do something today to get your mind off of him, okay?"

She nodded, and went to the couch as he left the room. She fingered the pouch he gave her. Perhaps she would go someplace. A museum, gaze at some paintings, sculptures. Watch a local play. Or go to a bookstore. She didn't have many books in Italian, it would be nice to add that to her collection.

She was broken out of her thoughts again when there was a pop, and a small houself with large blue eyes stood in front of her.

"Gypsy," Hermione exclaimed happily, then began to worry. "Is everything all right?"

"Draco misses you."

She huffed crossing her arms over her chest, resting mostly on her belly. At the mention of him missing her she grew rigid. "Anything else, Gypsy?"

"Yes! Gypsy has a message for you from Draco! He says that 'I thought you wouldn't make my worse fear come true'!"

"His worse fear?"

"He fears being alone, ma'am."

She bit her lip. Through their letters she did promise him that he would never be alone, and she did just that. She remembered his words from last night, and shook her head. "He did this, not me."

"In that case, he asked Gypsy to give this to you." A crack sounded, and in her hand there was a black leather book.

Hermione took it. She didn't open it yet. "Thank you, Gypsy."

"Is there anything you'd like Gypsy to tell him?"

"Not yet... I'll call you if I do, okay?"

Gypsy smiled, and nodded excitedly. In a puff of smoke she disappeared.

Curiously Hermione opened the cover. On the first page was Draco's handwriting in gleaming emerald ink. _"It all began with letters…"_ The next page was his first letter to her, and the second page her letter to him. It went on like that, page after page of their letters all transferred to the book in their own handwriting, exact copies. She tasted salt from her tears as she continued reading each letter. She reached the last one, and cried harder.

_Hermione,_

_You wrote me what I wanted to read. I want you to give up any thoughts of us, or of me. You are right, I am selfish, but I do love you, so much it hurts, it feels like I'm dying without water, and you're the only thing to quench my thirst. My reasons for dying are just. I can't hurt you anymore. Our words are killing me, but they are what I wanted. Don't love me. I'm not worth loving._

_With Nothing Left, Draco_

The next page was the poem:

_I seeked retribution, and forgiveness,_

_And I received someone who lit my life from darkness._

_You gave me hope for the future,_

_I gave you grief._

_Our days as children long gone to be left with the past,_

_But I wanted to make it right._

_Cold words turned warm,_

_It should have been too little too late,_

_But there you were in my arms, and I couldn't go back._

_How can I when I tasted the sweetest flower ever to grace my presence?_

_Keep this, my words._

_Tell our child bedtime stories of two enemies,_

_Tell them a happy ending,_

_Tell them a lie._

_Tell them that the boy loves her, for that would be true._

_I love you._

_D.M._

The next was the song he sung before he proposed:

_Letters tied with ribbons._

_Words of comfort of a trusted companion._

_A rare, most beautiful gem,_

_A rock in the rough,_

_You polish me making me yours._

_Truth be I was yours all along._

_Talks of the greatest gifts,_

_Dreams versus nightmares._

_And there's no escaping you._

_You creep into my veins, pump through my heart._

_Chestnut hair, chocolate eyes,_

_You're all mine._

_My dreams are when I wake,_

_Seeing your smiling face,_

_There's no place better than being here with you._

_Don't look to the past it holds no reason,_

_Look to me now._

_You're a beautiful gem,_

_And I'm in the rough._

_I swear there's no place better._

Drops fell on the last page:

_They loved each other more than they hated. They would give anything, and everything to be together. Through the fights, tears, secrets, lies, and truths they would make it. Nothing would stop them. A Slytherin, and a Gryffindor. A Malfoy, and a Granger. A story of hatred, remorse, retribution, forgiveness, friendship, and love. A never ending._

_This book is a gift to my best friend, my love, my wife. This is to be handed down through the generations, worth more than any weight of gold._

"Why do you do this, Draco," she wept to herself. "Why do you do this to me?"

A/N: I know this chapter is short (obviously a lot of mine are), and not a lot happened here, but this is what I planned to happen to those letters. This chapter is simply a catalyst. There's only two more chapters left, so things are wrapping up.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

Early

Letters had gone out that day to Harry, Ginny, and her parents letting them know that she was in Italy. She told Harry, and Ginny the truth, about the fight with Draco. She told her parents that her, and Draco had gone on vacation. She corresponded with them for the next three months. They didn't like her being away, but Hermione didn't care, she had to be away. It was for her sanity, and Draco's health, because surely if she was there she would hex him into the next century.

She took her cases like she had when the Healer wouldn't allow her to go to work. Secretly she would apparate back to England in time for the defense. Since Bonnie she hadn't let another elf, or creature down. She would in the future. She may be Hermione Granger, but she wasn't perfect, it certainly had been proven thus far.

Blaise had moved into the room next to hers so they wouldn't have to share the bed, or one of them take to the couch. They lived peacefully while she readied herself to go home. She was beginning to love Italy, more so than she had all those years ago when her parents took her. She loved exploring Venice, going to the beach with a good book, or catching a play at the cinema. Throughout the months her belly had grown quite big, though not as big as many woman's. She was able to walk without waddling, and though she tried she couldn't balance a plate on her stomach.

The nights were different. Her nightmares haunted her, and on her first night Blaise having heard her screams helped her put up powerful silencing spells on the walls. It wasn't her last night ending in sweat, and tears, and she couldn't wake up the customers for the duration of her visit. She wondered if Draco was having trouble sleeping too. Her nightmares always seemed to cease when she was with him. It never made sense to her, by all logic he should be making it worse for he was in her nightmares, but his presence calmed her. She missed the feel of him next to her, his scent, his warmth, the steady rhythm of his breathing. Her heart broke every night falling asleep without him, and when she woke to see the empty space next to her it broke again. Since when had her heart become fragile? She was almost disgusted with herself.

That is what caused her to pack the clothes she had bought. It was time that she went home. With her suitcase she stepped out of the room. The hallway was dimly lit. It might have been to make the horrible patterned carpet more appealing. The burgundy diamonds made her head spin. She knocked on the door with the brass numbers '410.'

"Hermione," Blaise greeted, and then saw her suitcase. He raised his eyebrows surprised. "Going home?"

"It's been three months, Blaise. I miss him."

He shrugged, "that's one of us," he lied. "I'll apparate you there, but I'm warning you if he attacks I'm using you as a shield."

"Get dressed first," she pointed to his plaid boxers, and bare chest, that made her a bit uncomfortable.

"Oh, right." He motioned for her to come in.

The room was identical to hers, every piece of matching furniture in its place. She sat on the couch as he disappeared into the bedroom. He came out moments later with trousers, and a shirt on.

She stood, and said in a tone no louder than she would have used to talk to Blaise next to her, "Gypsy."

The elf appeared with a crack at her side. "Hermione called Gypsy?"

"Can you apparate us?"

"Yes, it'll be Gypsy's pleasure!"

"Ready," Blaise asked holding out an outstretched hand.

Gypsy took one, and she took the other along with a deep breath before falling into that insufferable tube. She heaved a sigh when she felt herself become steady, and the atmosphere stop spinning. They didn't discuss where they would be going when she decided to leave, so when she opened her eyes she wasn't remotely shocked to find herself in Harry, and Ginny's lounge.

"I didn't know if you wanted to go straight home," he explained.

"No, this is perfect." It was perfect. She may wanted to have go home, but not directly. She wanted to see her friends first, prepare herself for the onslaught that was to come when she saw Draco. She wanted the comfort of her friends. "Harry? Ginny?"

There was hurried footsteps, a flash of red hair, and then Hermione was embraced tightly, the scent of flowers filling her nostrils, her suitcase falling to a thud next to her.

"You're home! About time!" Ginny stood back observing her friend. "You've gotten bigger!"

"Thanks, Ginny. Where's Harry?"

"At work..." She spotted Blaise behind her. "Hello, Blaise. Thanks for taking care of her."

"No problem."

"Have you seen Draco?"

Hermione shook her head. "No."

"He's missed you terribly. He's came by everyday to see if you're here."

"He knows I've been out of the city."

"But not out of the country."

"I couldn't tell him that, he'd have known that Blaise would've taken me to Italy."

"Are you going to see him?"

"Soon. Today. I just want to stay here for a little while."

"That's fine, but Draco usually stops by -"

"What the hell?!" A voice erupted from behind them at the fireplace.

"Now," Ginny finished, and Gypsy disappeared.

Hermione turned slowly, and saw Draco in front of the dying flames. He looked horrible, his hair resembling Harry's, eyes dull, skin more pallid than usual, features gaunt. He looked like he hadn't slept in months, his black clothes wrinkled. He looked like the walking dead.

"You're back," he croaked.

As if he didn't believe what he was seeing he ambled up to her, touching her cheek, her hair, running it through his fingers, down her neck, resting on her stomach. It all sent shivers down her system. "Draco," she said softly, breaking him of his spell. He snatched his hand away, taking a step back leaving too far of a gap between them.

"You left," he accused harshly.

"I know..."

His face contorted with rage. "That's it? That's all you have to say?!"

"What do you want me to say," she screeched making Ginny, and Blaise jump back in alarm. "Do you realize how you treated me? Did you expect me to put up with that? I don't deserve that, neither does this baby."

"Don't you think I know that," he roared. "It's what I think everyday! I _don't_ deserve you! You don't need to remind me of my faults!"

"I never have!"

"I know damn it!"

"Did you think I wouldn't understand," she said softly, but clearly. "Fred was as much as my brother as Ara was your sister. I know what it feels like, it kills me to this day to know that he's dead, and I'll never be able to watch him pull his stupid pranks - to lecture him like I do Harry, and Ron. I want him back! I'm sorry about Ara, and I'm sorry about your mother - I'm sorry for everything you've been put through. If I could take away your pain I would, I would trade all my years to do so, but I can't. I don't know how to comfort you, Draco, I wish I did. You won't tell me how, tell me what to do for you, and I'll do it, as long as you don't hurt me."

Draco breathed through his nose like a bull, suppressing rage. And when he charged at Hermione she flinched, but he pulled her to him, careful with her belly as to not crush the baby. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I need you here. With me. I swear on my life I'd never hurt you purposefully, Hermione. Don't leave again, I'll do anything, but don't you dare leave me. I've missed you... You're my air."

Hermione chuckled, but immediately frowned. She felt wet. "Let me go, Draco."

"Never."

"I mean it, let me go. My water broke."

Draco leapt away from her as if she was on fire. "Seriously?"

"Yes!" She flinched as she heard Ginny scream happily.

His face fell in worry. "It can't have - it's too early. You have another month."

"Tell that to the baby!"

"What'd I do?"

"St. Mungo's, mate," Blaise helped cuffing him on the shoulder, and stepping back quickly at the hazardous look Draco gave him. The anger at Hermione may have ebbed away, but he was still furious at his best friend.

"St. Mungo's," Draco repeated helplessly to himself. "St. Mungo's." He didn't seem to know exactly what to do.

Ginny held Hermione upright as a contraction swept through her. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'll owl everyone to let them know. We'll be there. Stay calm." She motioned for Draco to take her, and as he tugged her back to him, they apparated.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The Best Scene

There would never be a more lovely scene to Hermione than the one she was witnessing. An hour after giving birth she watched tiredly in the hospital bed as Draco in a green hospital gown held their baby girl wrapped in a pink blanket in his arms. There were happy tears in his eyes as he looked down at their daughter. If his smile became any wider it would reach his ears.

Hermione couldn't have been happier herself. She felt like she was going to burst with it. She couldn't have imagined loving one human being so much. That little girl was hers. She couldn't wait to take her home, show her to her bedroom. Hermione thought seriously of changing the green color of the walls to a soft purple. The rest could be kept up, but the green had to go.

"Ara Narcissa Malfoy," he stated before sighing, "a Gryffindor for sure," he mumbled.

Hermione raised a brow surprised at his admittance. "What makes you think she'll be in Gryffindor - granted that she will be."

He rolled his eyes. "She's brave." He said it as though it should have been the most obvious thing in the world, like telling her the sky was blue, or the grass was green, or that he was a ferret.

"Hand me our daughter, Draco."

With the utmost care he laid Ara in her arms. Hermione cuddled her to her chest looking down at her perfect features, skin as soft as petals. She had long dark lashes, a hint that she would have Hermione's hair, the poor girl. She was bald at the moment, like Hermione was as an infant, but soon there would be curls that she would put into bows. She was glad to see that she had Draco's tempest eyes. She was hoping that she would.

"Perfect," the new mother whispered. "Absolutely perfect."

Draco sat on the small space at the edge of the bed. He kissed the top of her head, sliding an arm over her shoulders. "Thank you for this."

"I have as much to thank you for. I read the book."

He grinned. "Her bedtime story."

"It should wait until she's older. It's a bit... Mature."

"Most of it," he agreed grazing Ara's forehead with his fingertips.

"Looks like you have your family back."

He looked quizzically at her. "I've always had my family. You are my family, and now this little one. I just felt that the last of it had been taken from me. It was foolish."

"That would be an understatement."

"I'm sorry for everything, Hermione. I've put you through much more than I should have."

She sighed tiredly. "Yes, you've put me through a lot, but you've given me everything I could ever ask for. I entrusted you with emotions that you kept safe, you let me love you without regret, and you loved me back. You've given me an adorable daughter, and your heart. Everything that you have ever done has been fully made up for."

Draco closed his eyes. "I haven't scratched the surface. I'll be living the rest of my life to make it up to you." He looked back at her sighing.

"Forgive yourself, Draco. You promised you would." She stared into his eyes, and repeated a phrase she remembered clearly, "don't look to the past, it holds no reason."

"Leave it to you to use my words against me."

They laughed, and Hermione held their baby closer to her trying not to wake her as she had just fallen asleep.

"I do, Hermione. I forgive myself. I have to, I have a daughter to raise."

She nodded. "I love you, Draco."

"I love you too, Hermione."

She yawned widely, and handed Ara carefully back to him. "I need to sleep. The day's catching up with me."

"Lets see… According to my new dear friend, Ginny, you've apparated from another country - something Blaise will pay for later I might add. I don't suspect you've slept well in months, and you've just given birth. I think you should rest for another eight months."

"I'm sorry I ran away from you," she added.

"I had it coming. Made me see that I didn't lose my whole family. I went blind there when mum passed. Blaise was right, she would be ashamed of me..."

"Maybe she would then, but overall I think she would be quite proud of you. You're going to be an amazing father. You didn't faint once during the birth." She let a smile creep on her lips.

"You're a barrel of laughs. Shall I show her to the crowd again?"

She nodded, "go right ahead." Her parents, the Weasley's, Harry, Teddy, Seamus, Luna, Neville, and Blaise had already seen her once, but they were anxious to again staying in the waiting room. One look at Ara, and Ginny said, "she needs another cousin." Harry paled considerably at that. Then Angelina cooed, and George instantly said, "no! No more, Fred's enough!" Hermione laughed when she thought of that.

She laid her head back on her pillow. Before the door shut behind Draco she heard their family bustle with excitement at seeing the baby again. She could hear George say, "no more," again. Hermione chortled lightly.

Most of the family had come around to the idea of Draco. All except Ron, and Seamus. Ron had to be treated for half an hour after the birth. When he held Ara he made the comment, "there's hope, this looks like Seamus' nose." Draco had calmly taken Ara from him handing her to the safety of Harry's arms, and then he gave a nice muggle punch to Ron's nose. It bled for a good fifteen minutes, and blood remained down his front Quidditch uniform. Mrs. Weasley, and Hermione scolded both of them, they thought they were both pretty low to be acting that way. Seamus didn't make it any better; he laughed, which bought him a dangerous glare from everyone.

One day she was sure they would come around, but asking them to like each other was too much. There was too much damage made in the past. She suppose that her, and Draco got lucky to be able to forgive. For some inexplicable reason she didn't care if he got along with the others. She would never admit it to anyone, but she enjoyed their fights, she found it amusing.

Hermione's eyes slipped closed, and that night, and forward the nightmares of Draco, and Hermione ceased.

A/N: I'm a bit sad to be leaving this story. It has taken a lot of my time, and I've loved writing it, but here it is. I'm happy with the way it turned out, and I hope you are too. I'd like to thank all of the readers/reviewers, you certainly encourage me.


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